


Must Love Dogs

by Enterprisingly



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Alistair/Female Warden, Dogs, Drama, Hawke is hot and Fenris is mad about it, Humor, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Poor Life Choices, Romance, Sarcasm, So Many Cameos, dog walker au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:59:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterprisingly/pseuds/Enterprisingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is a lawyer who needs a dog walker for his massive dog. Fenris is an aspiring novelist who really needs a day job. The only problem is that Fenris doesn’t like dogs. At all. And he <i>really</i> doesn't like Hawke. (The Dog Walker AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is ridiculous and was not supposed to be this long when I started writing it.
> 
> Many thanks to my fabulous beta, Avoxsus. XOXO

"Your name is Fenris." Hawke says, staring at the man who's standing on his stoop. He has his hands shoved carelessly into his back pockets, and he’s wearing the best go-to-hell look on his face that Hawke has ever seen.

"Yes."

"But you don't like dogs." Hawke leans against the doorframe.

"No." Fenris's eyes narrow.

"And you're a dog walker."

"Ostensibly, yes."

"Fenris... Like Fenrir the Norse wolf...you know, wolves... dogs... No? Nothing? You really don't see the humor in this at all?" Hawke asks.

"How badly do you need a dog walker?" Fenris counters.

"I dunno... How badly do you need a job? You must be pretty desperate if you're looking to earn a living by spending time with animals you don't even like."

Fenris makes a disgusted sound and his hand twitches reflexively as if he’d really like to punch Hawke.

"I charge $15 an hour and won't come any earlier than 9am or later than 9pm. Either hire me or stop wasting my time."

Hawke laughs. "I'll pay you $20 an hour, Champ needs to be walked twice a day and uh... he's kind of big."

 _That is an understatement of the century_ , Hawke thinks.

"How big, exactly, are we talking?" Fenris asks, looking apprehensive.

Hawke scratches his chin. "Oh uh... I mean, he could be bigger, but I'd say about a hundred forty pounds, give or take? He's a pure bred Mabari, you know."

"You do see me, right?" Fenris gestures at his body and Hawke looks him up and down in a way that's maybe a hair shy of a leer. Fenris might be a grouchy asshole, but he's a _pretty_ grouchy asshole.

"I do indeed."

Fenris ignores him and keeps talking. " _I_ weigh less than a hundred forty pounds. How am I supposed to control an animal like that, when the inevitable happens and he goes mad?"

"What? Champ's a great dog!" Hawke says, as if he’s never been so insulted. "He hardly pulls and he's really well trained. I mean, unless he sees a cat. Then he gets a little nuts. But if you keep him away from cats, you should be fine."

"And if I _can't_ keep him away from cats?" Fenris asks through gritted teeth.

"You'll be okay. $20 an hour heals many wounds." Says Hawke with a wide smile.

Fenris scrubs his hand over his face. He's wearing a look that says he's going to regret this so much. He sighs and his shoulders slump. "Fine. I will walk your dog."

Hawke beams like he's just won the lottery. "I bet you and Champ will get along great! He has a way of surprising people."

* * *

Fenris _hates_ that dog. It is huge, slobbery, smelly, and terribly behaved. In the month that he has been working for Hawke, Champ has dragged him through countless hedges and across parks, into puddles, and- on one memorable occasion- across the street in front of oncoming traffic. Of course Hawke thinks his dog can do no wrong; he'd have no trouble at all handling the beast. Hawke is over six feet of solid muscle and looks like he could bench-press a city bus. It's actually a little ridiculous how buff he is. Hawke looks like he belongs in an action movie about Spartans, not a law office.

_He must spend all his free time in the gym._

Fenris is so distracted by thoughts of Hawke's impossible physique and stupidly oversized dog that he almost walks into a lamppost. He jerks back just in time. Embarased, he subtly glances around to make sure that no one caught his near miss. But fortune has not been with him as of late and his eyes land on a most unwelcome sight.

"Not walking any dogs today, Fenris?"

 _Ah,_ Fenris thinks, _the universe really is that cruel. Good to know._

He turns and there of course is Hawke, who is wearing a basketball jersey for the Kirkwall Mages and a pair of running shorts. He is soaking with sweat and it's pretty obvious that he's been out for a while. At his side is Champ, panting, his long tongue lolling from his mouth. They're in the middle of Kirkwall's relatively small Main Street so running into Hawke is not too surprising. But it's certainly irritating.

"Thankfully not." He says.

"Want to join us for a while then?" Hawke asks, and Champ barks. He's doing that uncanny thing the dog sometimes does, where it seems like he understands the words people say around him.

"You want me to walk your dog... with you?" Fenris asks.

Hawke shrugs and his shirt lifts up a little, revealing a trail of dark hair running down from his naval and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. Fenris has a momentary thought about what it would feel like to follow that trail with his mouth. But then he remembers that this is _Hawke_.

 _Don't even go there._ He scolds himself fiercely. _He's not even your type! Too... beardy. And also an asshole. And your boss._

"Why not?" Says Hawke, completely oblivious to Fenris's internal turmoil.

"How about because I walk your oversized animal twice a day, five days a week already and today is not one of those days?"

"Aww come on. We should spend some time together! You've been working for me for almost a month, you have a key to my house, and I still know almost nothing about you. I'll... I'll even pay you for your time, if that makes it better." Hawke's stupid face looks disgustingly earnest and Fenris can feel his resistance crumbling. Plus he could use the money.

"Ugh. Fine. But I’m not running."

"That's no problem. We can just walk." Hawke replies with a grin, handing Champ's leash to Fenris with no preamble. Champ butts his enormous head into Fenris's stomach by way of greeting, getting drool all over his jacket.

Fenris glares at the dog. "You know Hawke, this creature is not at all well behaved when you're gone."

Hawke laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Ah, yeah... about that... I'm aware. He's impossible when I'm not here to keep him in line."

"What?" Fenris asks through clenched teeth. He can feel his blood pressure rising. "You hired even knowing that your dog was going to drag me around like a toy?"

"Why do you think I offered you more than you asked for? It's hazard pay." Hawke smiles at him and begins walking.

Champ takes that as a sign to start walking as well and Fenris is pulled forwards. He considers dropping the leash and letting both dog and master go their own way, but... $20 an hour. And rent is due in a week. Fenris holds onto the leash and jogs a bit to keep up.

"So Fenris. What do you do when you're not walking dogs?" Hawke asks.

"Stuff."

"Ooh, stuff!" Says Hawke, and Fenris can _feel_ the sarcasm, "Sounds thrilling."

He makes a disgusted noise. "If you really must know, I'm a writer."

"Hey, see, now that's cool! Why didn't you just say that? I wonder if I've read any of your work."

Fenris feels a blush creeping up his neck and mutters "doubtful" under his breath.

"What was that?" Hawke asks.

"I am almost certain you haven't. Not unless you subscribe to _Golf & Getaways Monthly._"

Hawke's eyebrows shoot up. "You play golf? And… write about it?"

"Nothing so bourgeois." Fenris snorts derisively, "The magazine sends it's pro-golfers to go play, then they report back to me in the least comprehensible and most boring way possible. I write articles that sound both interesting and articulate, and the magazine publishes them. Under the pro-golfers names." He doesn't even know why he's telling this to Hawke. It's the truth but it's also kind of embarrassing.

"And this is what you want to do with your life?" Hawke's eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his hairline.

"No. To be honest, I quit six months ago. I’ve been working on getting my novel published."

Hawke nods. "I see. And it's not going well, I take it. Hence the dog walking."

Fenris bristles. "It's going fine. Just… slowly."

Hawke's face is a portrait of amused incredulity and Fenris finds that he can't quite meet the taller man's eyes. Getting a book published is _so_ much harder than writing it in the first place. But he's admitted to enough failures in front of Hawke, he's not going to give him anything else. Fenris doesn't even know why he's told Hawke as much as he has. He is an incredibly private person and the idea of opening up to another person in not a comfortable one. But Hawke is weirdly charismatic.

They stroll in silence down the street for a while, until Champ almost yanks Fenris's arm out of its socket in his rush to pee at a hydrant.

"So are you single?" Hawke asks, as they're waiting for Champ to finish his business. "Got a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Married with two point five kids and a house?"

"Are you always this nosey?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He says, laughing, and Fenris thinks this walk is going to be very long indeed.

* * *

Hawke is becoming the kind of person who is chronically late to work. Not because of traffic or oversleeping, or even because he's developed a particularly intense Starbucks habit that has him standing in a long line in pursuit of sweet caffeination. No, he is now running late every morning because he's taken to waiting around until Fenris comes to walk Champ, so that he can say hi.

Fenris is grouchy and disagreeable, and has only two facial expressions: blank or contemptuous, but good god, there's something about him that's totally doing it for Hawke. Maybe it's the silver hair and the white ink tattoos against his dark skin, or maybe it's even the attitude, Hawke doesn't really know, but he's man enough to admit that he's got a big fat crush on his dog walker.

His _single_ dog walker, he thinks, gleefully. Getting Fenris to admit that had been like pulling teeth, only more entertaining. And despite all of Fenris's snarling, Hawke has occasionally seen Fenris looking at him in a way that makes him think that the dog walker may not totally hate him after all.

So every morning he gets up, showers, dresses, eats breakfast, feeds Champ and then sits around watching Cartoon Network in his suit and tie until he hears Fenris's ancient blue Honda rattling up the driveway. Then he pretends that he's in a rush to get to work. He can't have Fenris catching on to his real motivation, after all.

 _Though... it's not really pretending if I'm actually in a rush._ Hawke thinks, ruefully.

He's going to have to find another way to see Fenris though. His secretary, Merrill, is already on his case about his tardiness and has started bringing him "helpful" presents such as an alarm clock that works by vibrating his pillow very intensely, extra strength caffeine pills, and a copy of _Punctuality for Dummies_.

"I'm just worried about you. Also our clients. Mostly our clients. They're getting angry that they can't reach you first thing in the morning and when that happens they call and yell at me and I really don't like that. So please stop being late. Thank you!" She'd said, all in one breath, as she placed the book on his desk.

Merrill is going to scold him again this morning, but there's really no helping that because Hawke just can't help himself. He hears the familiar sound of the Honda's rickety engine and his response is almost Pavlovian. He has no doubt that if he were in possession of a tail, it would be wagging furiously. As it is, his palms are sweating ( _super attractive_ , he thinks) and his heart is racing.

Champ has picked up on the sound too and is running around in front of the door, barking madly. Hawke leans over the back of the sofa to watch him, shaking his head. Champ might spend most of his walks pulling Fenris along behind him, but Hawke knows that his dog too has taken a shine to the broody little man.

He shuts the TV off and gets to his feet. The key turning in the lock alerts him that he has only seconds to prepare before the door swings open and there he is.

"Stop that. Get down." Fenris, in all of his grouchy glory, is walking into Hawke's home, and shoving the giant Mabari away. "I don't have any treats, why do you always do this?"

Fenris looks up and sees him standing there. "Hawke. Running late again, I see. Would you please do something about your animal?"

"You know, you should call me Garrett. We've been friends-"

"I've been working for you-" Fenris interrupts.

"-W _e've been friends_ ," Hawke keeps right on going, "for like three months now."

"Do you pay all your friends $20 an hour?" Fenris asks.

"Of course not. You're special."

With the hand not currently employed keeping Champ from knocking him over, Fenris pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't think you understand how friendship works. I am your employee. Unfortunately."

Fenris mutters the last words under his breath, so Hawke ignores it.

"Yes, but you have a key to my house and if we're not friends that's weird."

"I-" Fenris stops, then sighs. "I don't actually have the energy to argue with someone who lives in an alternate reality this morning."

"Still having trouble with the book?"

Fenris glares. "That is none of your business."

Hawke shrugs, "Ah well, I suppose you're right. It's a shame though... If it was my business, because we were friends, then maybe I could introduce you to my _other_ friend... He's a writer too, you know, guy by the name of Varric Tethras?"

The shorter man freezes in place and Hawke's smile widens. Champ takes advantage of Fenris's break in concentration to lick him across the face. He doesn't even react.

_If this actually works, Varric is going to laugh his ass off when he hears about it._

"Wait. You know Varric Tethras, as in _New York Times_ best selling, _Hard In Hightown_ author, Varric Tethras?"

"That's the one! And he told me that his agent, a certain Ms. Isabella Naishe, is thinking about taking on new clients. Shame we're not friends though. It would be weird to introduce him to my dog walker, right?" Hawke winks.

"Are... are you seriously trying to bribe me into being friends with you?" Fenris asks like he can't believe that anyone would even consider doing something so incredibly stupid.

"Absolutely." Hawke says, cheerfully.

"And if I say that we're friends... you'll introduce me to Varric?" He asks, speaking slowly as if he’s solving a complicated math problem in his head at the same time.

"Yep! He's on a book signing tour right now but we have plans to meet up when he gets back into town in a couple months. Also call me Garrett, it's weird that you keep calling me by my last name like we're in prep-school."

Fenris briefly makes a face like a man who is signing his own death warrant. "You are a very unusual person." Then he sighs and throws up his hands, "But fine. We can be friends."

"Awesome!" Says Hawke, beaming from ear to ear, before he catches sight of the clock and his elation turns to panic. He's going to be almost an hour late this morning. Merrill's going to _murder_ him. "Shit, I've gotta run."

He grabs his keys and briefcase, races around the sofa, and sprints for the door.

"You and Champ have fun! Bye Fenris!" And then he's on the front stoop, door slamming shut behind him, leaving Fenris and the dog standing stunned in the entryway.

* * *

Fenris has been spending an awful lot of time with Hawke. Yeah, they're supposedly friends and all now, but everything about their relationship is weird as hell and Fenris hasn't had a friend (normal or otherwise) in so long that he's just not really sure what to do with this new development.

In the beginning, all they do is talk in the mornings before Hawke rushes out the door, always late to work. But, much to Fenris's surprise, Hawke seems to be taking this friendship thing seriously, so after a good deal of cajoling Fenris begins joining him while he walks Champ in the Hightown Park on weekend afternoons. They talk about Hawke's law firm and Fenris's book, the argue about music, and reminisce things that they miss about being in college. It's not long before Fenris realizes that he's actually having a good time.

Pretty soon they're watching TV together, sometimes even basketball, when Hawke's team, the Kirkwall Mages are playing. It's a game that Fenris doesn't know much about but is starting to enjoy. By the third time they watch a game together, Fenris gets the basic mechanics of play, though he still has a little trouble understanding the penalty system. Hawke has been trying to explain the rules, but his explanations are frequently interrupted by bouts of yelling at the television, as if his outrage will have a real effect on the game happening miles away.

On that day, they are tired from their earlier walk (which was actually closer to a run since Champ had smelled a cat) and they are in Hawke's living room, with beer and snacks, including a bag of chips and a can of salsa that Hawke has practically decimated. Fenris hasn't been brave enough to try the salsa after Hawke had warned, "This stuff's delicious but also dangerously hot and you won't feel it until a few seconds after you've eaten a giant mouthful and by then it's too late. Merrill got it for me... She said it was a gift, but it think it's a punishment for being late all the time."

From what Hawke has told him about his secretary that sounds entirely possible.

Champ is sleeping with his massive head on Fenris's foot (which is slowly going numb) and Hawke is standing and shouting "just shoot the ball!" as one of the players on his team makes a massive tactical error.

The player loses the ball to a member of the opposing team and Hawke collapses back onto the couch, with his hands over his eyes.

"I can't watch this, Fenris. Just tell me if they score. Actually don't do that. I don't want to know." He moans melodramatically, "The Mages used to be so good! Ever since they hired that new coach, Orsino, they've just been a disaster. He's gonna get them slaughtered in the playoffs. If they even make it that far. Doubtful, because the Ostwick Templars are looking particularly strong this year. Damn them."

"I see." Says Fenris, indulgently.

It's actually a little weird how much Hawke likes basketball, because he's sort of a giant nerd. Due to his physique, Fenris had incorrectly pegged him for a gym rat when they first met, but the more time they spend together, the more he learns that if he was going to try to shove Hawke into any stereotype- most of which he defies flagrantly and with a sort of irreverent glee- he would have to be a geek.

In fact, Hawke is so geeky that he's probably only a few steps away from putting on a costume and going to Comic-Con. As a writer, Fenris actually finds Hawke's refusal to be one-dimensional sort of appealing, something that he tries not to think too hard about. But Hawke's deep and abiding loyalty to the Kirkwall Mages is just as much a part of him as his strange obsession with dragon movies, and he's trying hard to get Fenris as invested in the team as he is.

Hawke eats a chip with a moderate dollop of salsa, followed by a substantial swig of his beer, and then looks at Fenris. "You know, you don't have to watch this with me. I like having your company here but if you're not enjoying yourself, I'm not going to force you to stay."

"It's growing on me." Fenris says, and to his surprise, he actually means it. The game is fast paced and relatively simple to understand, unlike football, which is a sport that he will _never_ comprehend or enjoy. The intellectual elitist in him wants to claim that liking sports is so pedestrian and therefor beneath him, but at least in this case, that is just no longer quite true. And basketball is not the only thing growing on him. It's slowly dawning on Fenris that somewhere along the line, their ridiculous association has actually become a real friendship and he doesn't even mind.

"So," Hawke says at length, "Varric should be getting back in to town sometime soon. His tour keeps getting extended because everyone loves him and his books, but he told me that he'd be happy to meet you when he gets home. If you are still interested, that is."

Fenris stares at Hawke for a few seconds, trying to understand what he's going on about before the pieces click into place and he remembers. Varric Tethras. The whole reason that he agreed to Hawke's friendship nonsense in the first place. Only it's not really nonsense any more and in fact, he's been enjoying Hawke's company enough that even if he had no ulterior motive, he'd keep hanging around anyway.

"Oh." He says, surprised, "I had forgotten."

"Wait, so you haven't just been indulging me to get to Varric?" Hawke has a dumbstruck expression in his face.

"No Hawke, I'm here because we're friends." He says and Hawke smiles broadly at him, like Fenris is the most amazing person he's ever seen. Fenris's stomach is momentarily filled with butterflies and he sort of forgets how to breathe.

* * *

When Hawke wakes up this particular morning, he feels less motivated than usual to get up and go into work. His schedule for the day includes back to back meetings with two of his least favorite clients, both of whom want him to make _their_ project his one and only priority. Neither one of them seems to understand that the world just doesn't work like that.

All the same he drags himself through his day, feeling worse and worse as the hours ware on, until 5pm rolls around, and despite still having a mountain of work to do, he decides to throw in the towel and head home.

By the time he pulls into his driveway, he's so exhausted that he doesn't even realize that Champ isn't there to greet him. Energy reserves totally gone and brainpower at zero, Hawke stumbles through his usual evening routine like a zombie, meaning that he is roaming about his house in a state of undress at half past six, which happens to be when Fenris and Champ return from their evening walk and everything goes to hell.

For Christmas the year before, Hawke's little brother, Carver had given everyone in the family new bathrobes. His mother and sister, Bethany, had both received very tasteful, silk dressing gowns. Hawke on the other hand, had been the recipient of a heinous red velour smoking jacket. The robe comes down to his mid-thighs and has burgundy satin lapels so large, that whenever they accidentally get flipped up, it makes the robe look like something that Dracula would wear. It is so offensively ugly that it could easily pass for a discarded costume from a particularly low-budget 70's porno.

It is however- to give Carver _some_ credit- very comfortable. So instead of throwing it away like he said he was going to, Hawke sometimes wears it to lounge around in after showering, when he knows for sure that no one will see it.

His guilty pleasure finally catches up with him that evening, though. And the result is that he finds himself standing in the kitchen, wearing the robe and nothing else, shoving half a banana into his mouth, when Fenris walks in the door. They both freeze in place, unable to look away from each other. Fenris's eyes rove judgmentally over Hawke from shower-damp hair to Dracula lapels, until they reach Hawke's thighs, where they abruptly stop.

Hawke is suddenly keenly aware of his complete lack of briefs in the presence of the worst possible person on the planet. He is not quite indecent but that is only because he isn't moving and he is blessedly too horrified to get hard.

Abruptly no longer tired, he clears his throat, or tries to anyway, but he has forgotten about the banana, so instead of an authoritative sound, all that comes out is a garbled choke followed by a bout of coughing. Fenris is still staring at his thighs. Hawke has never felt as self conscious as he does in this moment.

"Fenris," he wheezes, once the choking subsides.

The dog-walker's eyes snap up as if the spell binding them to Hawke's thighs has been broken. His lips curl a little in disgust, but there is... something lurking just behind his gaze that Hawke can't quite place.

"What _are_ you wearing?" Fenris almost sneers at him, Champ, for once, is sitting obediently at Fenris's feet. He is also staring at Hawke and being judged by his dog as well is just adding insult to injury.

Hawke shifts his weight so that he is standing up straighter. Slouching was making the front of the robe gape a little. Also, he's been humiliated enough for one day, he's going to play this out as if he doesn't care or he's going to die trying. "It's a smoking jacket, Fenris. Very dignified. All the rage in France."

Fenris makes a disgusted sound. "It makes you look like Hugh Hefner. And no, that is not a good thing."

Hawke claps the hand, not holding the remaining half of his banana, to his heart and staggers back a few steps. "You wound me." He says and Fenris rolls his eyes _hard._

"Please. For the sake of all our sanity, go put some pants on." Says Fenris who is now decidedly looking anywhere _but_ Hawke.

With a heavy sigh he sets the banana on the kitchen counter and turns towards his room. This is just about as elegant an exit as he's going to be able to make and in all honestly it really is nerve wracking to be half naked in front of Fenris. "Fiiiiine. If it will make you more comfortable, I'll go put on pants."

It is as he's leaving that whatever enchantment has been keeping Champ from bouncing all over the place finally breaks, and the Mabari bounds after his master. With an excited bark, the massive dog collides with Hawke's back and down they both go, ass over teakettle. The sudden gust of air lets him know that the robe has flipped up and the strangled "oh my god" followed by hurried footsteps and a slammed door lets him know that Fenris has fled the premises, taking what little remains of Hawke's dignity with him.

* * *

Fenris is _not_ attracted to Hawke. He's not. Because he can't be. Not even a little. Nope.

And Fenris is definitely _not_ picturing his hands braced against Hawke's things, _Hawke's_ _massive, sculpted thighs that could probably crush a man's skull between them,_ while he's kisses and licks and bites his way up to Hawke's- no. Absolutely not. He's just not even going there.

He isn't attracted to beardy, hairy guys. Or Hawke. At all. They are friends now. But that's it and friends are absolutely not attracted to each other. This is just temporary psychosis and possibly some sexually frustration. It _has_ been quite some time since he's been with anyone, so that must to be it. Otherwise why on earth would he be getting worked up over the sight of that horrifying bathrobe flying up, revealing a brief flash of an ass?

 _It was the most perfect ass that I have ever seen, though._ _I did not just think that. I am going insane. I have been under too much stress recently and I'm finally losing my mind._

Fenris scrubs his hands over his face and tries to think calming thoughts. Smooth, tranquil lakes. Very cold lakes. Losing his mind would be so much easier than actually being attracted to Hawke.

"No. Stop being ridiculous. You are friends. You're not attracted to him. There is no point in even thinking about this." He tells himself, firmly, "Pull yourself together. You are a grown man."

That is easier said that done. He's been sitting in his car, trying to pull himself together for nearly an hour, but it's just not working. Fenris groans and bangs his head into the steering wheel repeatedly, causing the horn to let out a series of honks, which sound like someone punching a duck with a throat cold. All of the dogs on the street start barking and his nosy neighbor, an older woman named Wynne, who seems to live for snooping, peers our her window at his car. Fenris groans again.

 _Dogs,_ he thinks venomously, _my whole life has gone to the fucking dogs._

* * *

Varric's book sighting tour goes on nearly a month and a half longer than he had originally planned. _Hard in Hightown_ was the sort of runaway smash hit that happens very rarely and fame, like an avalanche descended upon Varric and carried him off.

Hawke misses his best friend a lot, but he doesn't begrudge him his success at all. All the same, he is ecstatic, the day he comes home from the grocery store to find Varric sitting in his living room, flipping channels and texting his agent.

"Your cable package is shit." Varric says, by way of greeting, "how much are you paying for... what... a hundred actual channels, six channels of Spanish soap operas, and four hundred channels of music?"

"You've been gone for almost five months and _that's_ the first thing you say to me?" Hawke huffs, setting his groceries on the kitchen counter. "What about 'hi Garrett, I've missed you so much, life wasn't worth living without you around'?"

"Ah, glad to see you haven't changed." Varric grins at him and Hawke laughs.

He saunters into the living room and flops down into a chair. "So. Tell me everything. Were there screaming fans? Did you get mobbed again like you did in London, when you had to hide under a table for an hour until they all went away? Did Isabella finally succeed in her crazy quest to get you laid?"

With a wave of his hand, Varric neatly brushes aside Hawke's questions. "It was a long tour, and it was pretty dull. Isabella is still disappointed in me for not using my star status to get, in her words, 'massive amounts of ass'. But that's not why I'm here. I want to know why three nights ago, you drunk texted me 'in in love wit my dogwaller' followed by 'barric what do I'."

"Oh shit." Says Hawke. Because he kind of remembers that night and he even sort of blurrily remembers those texts, but up until that moment, he'd sort of been hoping they were a dream. It was the night when Fenris caught him wearing that fucking smoking jacket and might have also caught a glimpse of Hawke’s ass, thanks to his useless dog.

That whole night was such a fucking disaster and he had pretty much called it a loss and spent the next few hours drinking heavily to try to drown out his raging humiliation. The memory alone makes Hawke burry his face in his hands, queasy with embarrassment, while Varric looks on, with an expression that is part amusement and part disgust.

The worst thing is that the incident with the robe had happened fairly soon after Hawke realized that the way he felt for Fenris was no longer simple or innocuous. The more time they spend together, the more he likes him, and somewhere along the line, Hawke's dumb crush morphed into something a hell of a lot more intense. It's gotten to the point where his fantasies are not just the usual filthy daydreams of fucking Fenris until neither one of them can move, but also of making him blueberry pancakes in the morning, holding his hand while they're walking Champ, and running his fingers through his hair while they're snuggling on the couch. It's actually kind of disgusting.

However, given that he hasn't been able to get the courage up to so much as ask Fenris out on a date, it's not all that surprising that he's now drunk-texting Varric. Hawke has never been good at keeping his shit together- or private- for long.

"Well..." he begins, slowly, "I may have a thing for my dog walker. Who might only have agreed to be friends with me in the first place in order to meet you- he's a struggling writer type, you know- but he's actually coming around and starting to like me for real, even though I totally embarrassed myself in front of him. The only problem is that he wants to be friends and I want more."

"Wait, so this is the same dog walker that you wanted to introduce me to right after my tour started? I still can't believe you used me as a bribe. Just so you know, that's going in a story someday. But seriously Hawke, only you could end up in a mess like this."

Groaning, Hawke buries his face in his hands. "I know, I know... I should have just asked him out in the beginning, but he was _so_ surly back then, Varric. I figured that friendship- even friendship via bribery- might be an easier first step. But I've obviously made a giant mess of everything because I sent him the wrong signals and now he has no idea that I like him.

"And even if I did ask him out now, my gaydar can't get a read on him, so there's a fifty-fifty chance that he'd just tell me to go to hell. Though he did stare at my thighs for a really long time once. But that might have been like when you can't stop looking at something you don't want to see. I don't know, this is a catastrophe, and I hate my life." Hawke finishes in a rush and sort of collapses back into his chair. The room is quiet except for the sounds coming from the infomercial on TV and the rustling of hair against fabrics as Varric shakes his head very slowly.

"I go on _one_ book tour and you fuck everything up. What on earth possessed you to think that any of this was a good idea?" He admonishes.

Hawke shrugs hopelessly. "I am known for a many things, Varric, but good ideas are not really one of them."

"So. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, I don't know... I was thinking about repressing my feelings some more. It's worked well so far.

Varric throws a decorative cushion (a housewarming gift from Bethany) at Hawke's head. It connects because Hawke is too busy sulking to see it coming. "Oh give me a break. You've begun drunk texting and that way lies disaster. Real solutions; let's hear them."

"I guess I could fire him, move to Ostwick, change my name and try to forget what a colossal disaster I made of my life here?" Varric throws another cushion and Hawke manages to duck this one. "Okay, fine! I can ask him out or I can try to get over him."

Varric smiles, approvingly. "There you go! So stop moping. You are better than this and it's time to stop acting like you aren't."

With a defeated sigh, Hawke shoves his fingers through his hair. He knows that Varric is right, but straightening out the tangled mess that he has woven around himself and Fenris is not going to be fun, especially because in the last few days, Fenris has become increasingly difficult to get a hold of.

* * *

Ever since the fateful night when he accidentally saw a lot more of his boss than he had ever intended to, Fenris has been getting an uncomfortable swooping feeling in his stomach at so much as a text from Hawke.

Once he notices it, he can't seem to ignore it, and trying to pretend that it's not happening is fighting a losing battle. After a couple weeks of trying to sort out his feelings, with varying degrees of failure, Fenris finally decides that the best course of action is just to avoid Hawke as much as possible.

The problem is that by this point he's grown very used to hanging around in Hawke's house and he can't bring himself to stop.

Around the same time that their friendship began, Fenris started bringing his laptop with him when he came over for Champ's evening walk and after the dog had finished dragging him around the neighborhood, Fenris would settle in on the couch and work for a while. At first his excuse was that he was using Hawke's Wi-Fi instead of his own and therefor saving money by not going over his monthly data limit. Even in the privacy of his own mind, it sounded like a flimsy excuse, so pretty soon he switched to telling himself that Hawke's couch is just more comfortable than his. Which is actually true.

It's made of butter-soft, dark brown leather and each cushion feels as though it has been stuffed with baby angel down. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the point is, the couch is more comfortable than any of the shitty furniture in the dump that Fenris has been staying in since he quit the magazine job.

 _Golf & Getaways_ had paid enough for him to live comfortably, but once he left, funds had grown tight very quickly, forcing him to move away from his spacious loft in Hightown and into the tiny, squalid, and ironically named "Mansion Apartments", which probably should have been condemned and torn down ages ago. He'd also been forced to get a roommate, which was a new and singularly unpleasant experience

Fenris and Anders are diametrically opposed on pretty much every issue and they cannot be in the same space for more than a few minutes without arguing about something. He doesn't know what he was really expecting from a roommate he found on Craigslist.

In comparison, Hawke's cushy _actual_ mansion is a much nicer place to sit and work. The fact that it also smells like Hawke- warm and just a little spicy- well, that is both an up and a downside and which one it is on any given day really depends on how honest Fenris feels like being with himself.

Before his resolution to take a break from Hawke, Fenris had been fairly blatant about his use of the couch as a workspace. Hawke had been more than happy for Fenris to use the space, going so far as to invite Fenris to eat dinner with him whenever he came home early.

These days though, Fenris is almost hyper paranoid about leaving before Hawke gets home, and he manages to be good about it for quite some time, but when Hawke finally does catch Fenris working there again, it's a complete train wreck. Mostly because Fenris is not actually working. He's sleeping.

It had been a long day. He'd walked Champ first thing that morning, and then followed that up by taking the small pack of ferocious, white Chihuahuas that belonged to Kirkwall's district attorney, Meredith Stannard, to the vet for their annual vaccinations. Meredith was so unbelievably difficult to deal with that she actually topped the very long list of Fenris's most infuriating employers.

Any time Fenris was supposed to be with her dogs, she would text him incessantly, telling him that if anything happened she would be holding him personally accountable and reminding him not to give her dogs "regular" treats because " _we're all_ _going gluten free this month to lose a little weight"_. Both the woman and her dogs were insufferable on a good day, and the combination of being in a strange car and going to the vet seemed to have driven the animals thoroughly insane.

It was already nearing one in the afternoon when Fenris wrangled the last of the yapping, snarling creatures back into Meredith's house, he had a pounding headache and his ankles were throbbing from being bitten repeatedly. As soon as he finished up there, he took half an hour for lunch before running off across town to give the Therin family's dog, a Mabari mix named Barkly, a quick walk which turned into also having to give her a bath after she rolled in something unspeakably filthy. And after all that, he still had to return to Hawke's house to take Champ for his evening walk.

Fenris was so exhausted by the time the dog finally dragged him back up the stairs to the front door, that he could hardly unlock the house. So naturally when he sat down on the couch and opened his laptop, he fell asleep waiting for the computer to boot up. Which is, of course, how Hawke finds him; sitting up with his mouth hanging open, drooling a little, and snoring softly.

It's the snickering that alerts Fenris to the fact that he's no longer alone and catapults him rudely back to consciousness. He has a few seconds of panicked disorientation, during which he jerks in surprise and his laptop slides off the edge of the sofa. Fenris makes a grab for it, but he's too slow, his reaction time still impaired by recently waking, and terror fills him as he watches his dreams, in laptop form plummet towards the ground- and then Hawke is there, computer safely in hands.

"Whoa there!" Says Hawke, sprawled across the floor on his belly, looking up at Fenris. "That was close."

And that's when Fenris's brain finally comes back online and he realizes that Hawke totally just _dove the length of the living room_ to save his laptop. Fenris stares at him, shocked but also a little awestruck.

"This is the part where you say 'thank you', Fenris."

"Did you really just throw yourself across the room to catch my computer?"

"Well given that I am on the floor, in quite a lot of pain, holding your laptop, I would say that seems like the most likely scenario, yes." Hawke passes the computer back up to Fenris.

" _Why?_ " He asks, still staring at Hawke like he's never seen him before. He actually sort of _feels_ like he's never seen him before either.

Hawke pushes himself up off the floor, groaning a bit, and gets to his feet. "Well, your novel's on there, isn't it?"

Fenris nods slowly, unsure of where Hawke is going with this.

"I figured that's probably your only computer. You lose that, you lose your novel. No offense but dog walking isn't exactly a lucrative career choice... I dunno... I just saw your laptop falling and thought 'if his computer breaks then he's gonna lose a lot more than I will if I get a little banged up trying to catch it'." Hawke shrugs, nonchalant and easy, like some kind of action hero, who's just saved the day without breaking a sweat. Fenris can't remember the last time anyone did something like that for him just because they were worried about him. "Everything's all good right?"

Hawke rubs his left elbow. "Though, I'm gonna get a lot of questions about the bruises at the office. Maybe you can kiss this better? I did get it on your behalf, after all." He sticks his elbow out towards Fenris, eyes crinkled with mirth.

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. The expression on Hawke's face fades slowly from cocky pleasure to concern at Fenris's lack of response. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else and Fenris bursts into action.

"I have to go." He says, leaping off the sofa, laptop clutched to his chest. He's pointedly looking anywhere but Hawke as he pulls his shoes on and shoves the computer into his bag.

"Fenris, what-?" Hawke begins, obviously confused.

Fenris bolts for the exit, retracing the familiar path that Hawke takes every morning when he realizes that he's going to be late again, around the couch, across the foyer, out the door and onto the front stoop, then down the drive. Fenris is in the driver's seat of his car, throwing the vehicle into reverse before he even realizes what's happening.

He has to get out of there and away from Hawke, _right now_. He feels like an idiot because now that he realizes what's going on, he can't believe that he didn't see it before. All the signs were there. He's even spent several long hours of his life actively convincing himself that he couldn't see them. His heart is pounding in his throat and he's breathing is shallow, panicked. His stomach churns like he's going to vomit.

Hawke is an asshole; he is bossy and a little manipulative and he openly admits to these things. He has the worst dog on the planet and enjoys prying into other people's business for fun. Hawke _cannot_ also be a selfless person. He cannot be the kind of man who would risk physical injury to help someone else out. And yet, he is.

And Fenris, oh Fenris is in so much trouble because he understands now why Hawke makes his stomach swoop and his brain go fuzzy. Hawke may want to be friends, but that is the last thing on earth that Fenris wants. Back in the living room he had wanted to grab Hawke by the shirt, pull him in and kiss him 'til they're both dizzy. He still wants to, even now.

Fenris curses himself for being so blind to his own feelings. His heart has been a cold, shriveled lump of darkness in his chest for so long that he didn't even notice that it was coming back to life and now that it has... oh, Fenris is so screwed.

"Fuck!" He yells into the silence of his car, as he speeds down the street, trying unsuccessfully to outrun his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even when I wasn't on vacation I wrote most of this on an iPad with no keyboard... it's surprisingly good for distraction-free writing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Sorry for the wait, part 3 will be up soon.
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who commented!! I love comments, they make me very happy. XOXO

Hawke stands in his living room, blinking at the spot where Fenris had been only seconds before. In the echoing silence, he's left wondering how exactly their encounter has gone bottoms up in so quickly. 

He's no idiot; it's obvious that Fenris has been avoiding him recently. Their regular walks have stopped and he's no longer coming around to watch basketball. In the mornings, their interactions have become stiff and awkward, with Fenris only staying long enough to put a leash on Champ before hurrying out the door. 

It makes Hawke a little sad, but he did enough pseudo coercion to get Fenris to give him a shot in the first place, and he's not the kind of guy who would _actually_  force someone to be friends with him. Despite being pushy at the beginning, he's made sure to leave the metaphorical door to their friendship open for Fenris to step back any time that he liked, though he never suspected that he actually would. Now, despite all the time that they've spent together and the flashes of genuine fondness that he was certain he had glimpsed, Hawke is second-guessing himself. 

Carver calls his direct (and forceful) manner "Garretting people into agreement”. The ability to convince people to see things his way makes Hawke a great lawyer, but it can also make him an insensitive jerk sometimes. He has to wonder if maybe he hasn't been so blinded by his crush on Fenris, that he just Garretted his way into hanging out with someone who really wasn't interested. 

But honestly, he doesn’t think that’s the case. And despite being sad about the avoidance, he hasn't tried to press the issue. Hawke can be kind of an ass sometimes but he's pretty sure that this time, at least, he's not entirely at fault. All the same, he feels bad that Fenris is so upset; because whatever Fenris considers them, Hawke still thinks of them as friends. It makes his chest hurt to know that something he did was so upsetting. 

 _Maybe it was the joke,_ he thinks, _wouldn't have pegged him for one, but he could be a homophobe. Or a closeted gay guy who's afraid I just learned his secret._  

If either of those is the case, it sucks big time. Hawke has never really fit well with any particular stereotype, but he's as gay as they come and he has been, since he was fourteen and kissed his friend Sebastian behind the Kirkwall High dumpsters, while they were hiding from bullies. He came out to his family that night and even though his mom worried a little that it might get him bullied, he's never actually felt at all conflicted about his sexuality. Sebastian had later panicked about the kiss and forced Hawke to swear that he would never tell anyone what they'd done. Their friendship had dissolved soon after, and that had been far more traumatic than realizing he liked boys. 

He's never been in-your-face about it and can't actually remember saying anything about liking men to Fenris, so under the circumstances, it is possible that he may still be in the dark.

But Hawke's sexual orientation is a fundamental part of who he is, so if Fenris is a homophobe then this relationship is over before it's begun. That is one incompatibility that Hawke isn't even willing to try to work around. He has no time for hateful people. And if Fenris in the closet... well, in its own way, that's just as bad. In Hawke's experience, closeted guys, who were that way for any reason other than personal safety, were most often filled with shame and self-loathing. And relationships with them seemed perpetually doomed to a messy ending from the get-go. 

The problem is that Hawke still doesn't get either vibe from Fenris. They just don't feel like the real reason for Fenris's over the top reaction. And not knowing for certain is driving Hawke _insane._  

He drops down onto the sofa and runs a hand through his hair. His whole body still aches in protest from diving to catch the falling laptop. To be honest, Hawke had been hoping for some gratitude. Maybe even a chance to talk. He'd wanted to clear the air, even if all he learned was that Fenris really just had been pretending to like him so that Hawke would make good on his promise to introduce him to Varric. Even that were the case, Hawke would still probably make the meeting happen. He was around during the time that Varric was fighting to get his first novel published and he remembers what a nightmare it was. But if Hawke has somehow opened up a traumatic can of worms with Fenris, they may never get the to talk stuff out now. And Hawke may never get to help him. 

The whole situation sucks. 

Champ hops up onto the sofa next to him and plants his enormous head in Hawke's lap. Hawke doesn't even have the heart to shoo the dog off the couch. He just scratches one pointed, velvety ear and sighs so hard that he gets a little light headed. 

"What am I gonna do, buddy?" He asks. "I like that broody asshole so much... but I either fucked it up real bad tonight, or I misjudged him like crazy and he's got some serious issues. Either way, this mess just keeps getting bigger." 

The dog lets out a low whine and drools on Hawke's pants. 

"Thanks for that. You always know how to show a guy you care." He says, gently rapping his knuckles against the Mabari's head. 

Champ's stumpy tail wags furiously in response and Hawke heaves another massive sigh. 

* * *

The text says " _r u coming 2day? Also sry again didn't mean 2 make it weird :(_ ". 

It's the seventh text of that nature that Fenris has received since the night he ran away from Hawke's house. 

Fenris groans and rolls over in bed. He doesn't want to talk to Hawke right now, but he's going to have to put his big boy pants on and do it. If he wants to keep his job and what little remains of his dignity, this cannot go on. 

" _I will be there later this morning, same as every day this past week. I told you, my schedule has changed. Leave the money on the counter._ " He replies, fighting the urge to add " _also you text like a child_ " to the end of the message. 

Fenris has been doing a magnificent job of avoiding many important things until right now. His feelings, his job, Hawke... oh, and as of today he's going to have to add his roommate to the list, because rent is due and boy is he short this month. He's kept on walking Champ, making sure to wait until he's certain that even the eternally late Hawke has left for work, before entering the house. But he's been canceling most of his other standing arrangements. He just doesn't have the energy for more dogs right now. 

 _This is ridiculous_ , he thinks, _Hawke did me a huge favor and instead of just thanking him like a normal person, I iced him out like he messed up. Why am I such a colossal failure when it comes to handling real human feelings? I should be better than this by now._

Hawke must think that Fenris is crazy. Hell, Fenris feels a little crazy. This should all be very simple. Hawke did something nice so he should just be grateful. He misses Hawke so he should go see him. He likes Hawke so he should just say so and he even has the feeling that this admission might not be unwelcome. But Fenris is bad at relationships. He's moody and distant and can't trust anyone as far as he can throw them. He likes Hawke enough to know that if something does start, it will be a disaster when Fenris fucks it up. 

He stares at the spider-webbing cracks in the ceiling above his bed. The building is suffering from obvious foundation damage and probably shouldn't even be standing. There's a scratching sound at Fenris's door, followed by a loud yowl. Anders's cat, Ser Pounce-a-lot, is begging for food. 

"Did that bastard stay out again all night?" Fenris wonders aloud. 

It's not altogether unusual for Anders not to come home. He works at an inner-city free clinic and often takes on shifts when other doctors can't make it in or the clinic is particularly swamped. He's also involved with many different charities and activist groups. Anders cares so much about everyone and everything that it makes Fenris want to vomit.

On the other side of his door, Pounce lets out a truly mournful sound. "Ugh, fine. I'm coming, stop making that awful noise." 

With a deep sigh of resignation, Fenris throws off the covers and gets out of bed. He shivers when the cold air hits him. As usual, the apartment is freezing. Neither he nor Anders has the financial resources to keep their home at a comfortable temperature. As a result, they've both taken to wearing excessive amounts of warm clothing and bitching at each other about the cold. 

He sticks his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and opens the door. Pounce tackles his feet, before flopping onto the floor and rolling around, mewling pathetically. He's never met a cat that begged for food before. Not that Fenris has spent much time with other cats. 

"There's something not quite right about you." Fenris says, looking down at the cat. 

All things considered though, he likes Pounce a damn sight more than Anders, who is opinionated, touchy, and messy. He walks into the kitchen, and immediately wrinkles his nose at the dirty dishes in the sink. Idly Fenris wonders if there's any way he can use them as leverage against his roommate in the case for why he shouldn't have to pay full rent this month. 

He's in the middle of pouring dry food into Pounce's bowl when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. His immediate thought is that it's Hawke and Fenris gets that giddy/sick feeling his come to associate with him. He sets the bowl of cat food on the floor then fishes his phone out of his pocket. 

The text is not from Hawke, and he is both relieved and a little let down. The relief fades quickly though when he reads the message on his phone.

" _If you are receiving this message then I have failed to enter the code to turn off my emergency alert system. This means that I have been arrested while exercising my constitutional rights. Please contact the local police precinct for more information. Thank you, Anders Howden_ " 

"Oh you've got to be _shitting_ me." Fenris snarls. 

Pounce looks up from eating and eyes him warily. 

"Your owner is an idiot." He tells the cat. 

 _But he's the idiot with the rent money so looks like this isn't a problem that I can just ignore_. 

He has to go to his actual computer to look up the non-emergency phone number for the Kirkwall PD. If pressed, Fenris will tell people that he thinks smartphones are an insidious time-sink but in reality he just can't afford a data plan for one. He does enjoy the reactions of people when he pulls out his ancient flip phone, though.

He dials the number and navigates with some difficulty through the automated menu until he reaches a real person. 

"Department of Corrections, Officer Jevan speaking." Says a monotone male voice on the other end of the line. 

"I think someone has arrested my roommate and I'm trying to find him." 

"Name?" 

"Mine or his?" Fenris asks, exasperation growing. 

"His. Why would I need yours?" It sounds like Jevan is close to falling asleep from boredom, as though if he cared any less, he might actually drop dead. 

"I don't know. I've never had to call the police before." Snaps Fenris. "His name is Anders Howden." 

"Please hold." The ear peace of the phone fills with crackling elevator music for a few seconds, then Jevan returns. "Ah. That guy. Officers Vallen and Hendyr picked him up last night for indecent exposure and civil disobedience. Mr. Howden's bail has been set at $500. You can come collect him at the county jail any time between now and 6pm." 

"Where the hell am I going to get $500?" 

"That is not my concern. Have a pleasant day." Says Officer Jevan, before hanging up on Fenris. 

Fenris lowers the phone away from his ear, feeling the beginning of a headache building behind his eyes. If he ever manages to get Anders out of jail, he's just going to kill him. 

"Where the hell am I going to get $500?" He repeats, running his hands through his hair. 

 _You could always ask Hawke_ , says a little voice in the back of his head. 

 _Absolutely not_ , he thinks, _if the first real thing I say to him after being a dick is "hey Hawke, sorry for the vanishing act, feel like lending me a massive chunk of cash?" There's no way that it won't sound like me wanting to use him for his money_. 

But the longer he mulls the situation over, the more it dawns on him that he might not have any other choice. Even though he's been acting like a total ass for the past week, Hawke doesn't seem to bear him any ill will, and besides, who else could he even ask? He has no family to speak of, no real friends, and Anders who would have been the logical first choice, is the reason that this is happening. Besides, Hawke _is_ a lawyer. Perhaps even if he doesn't feel like lending money to Fenris, he will at least be willing to help get Anders out of jail some other way. 

Fenris's inbox and mailbox are both filled with rejection letters from publishers and no massive fortunes left to him by dead relatives seem to be forthcoming. He's not getting out of this with luck and he really only has one option left. 

With great reluctance, he flips his phone open again and scrolls through his contacts to find Hawke's name. 

* * *

Hawke's not really the kind of lawyer who gets people out of jail. He's more the kind of lawyer that writes contracts and makes people a lot of money. But Hawke is so happy to hear Fenris's voice on the other end of his phone that he agrees to help him before even asking what he actually needs. Besides, if he helps Fenris out, then they might get the chance to talk. 

Kirkwall's jail is in Lowtown, an area that Hawke does not find himself in often and he gets a little lost on his way. All the same, he still manages to pull his massive black Escalade into the only empty parking space outside of the jail a little while before Fenris rolls up in his ancient Honda. He stands, leaning against his car with arms crossed, and watches as it takes Fenris a solid minute to parallel park his vehicle in a space across the street. 

The shorter man climbs out of the car. The whole chassis creaks in protest when he slams the door shut. 

"Hello Fenris." Hawke calls out, in an unusually somber tone. 

Fenris looks up quickly and then just as quickly back down at the ground. 

"Hawke." 

"Garrett, remember?" 

"Ah. Yes. I believe thanks are in order. And perhaps apologies too." 

"Yep," says Hawke with a grin, "but I'll take you talking to me again over either of those if it's all the same to you.” 

"I... do suppose I owe you that, at least." Fenris says in a tired voice, as he walks over to Hawke. 

For a few seconds they stand awkwardly by Hawke's car, not looking at each other, before Hawke blurts, "Look, if I did something wrong, I am sorry." 

At the same time that Fenris says "I need to apologize for my rudeness." 

The apology is stiff, as if the words are unfamiliar and difficult for Fenris to express, but Hawke does not doubt their sincerity and he decides to cut Fenris a break. 

He laughs a little and scratches the back of his neck. "Look, I do like you Fenris, and I want to keep being friends if you're okay with that. I've missed having you around this week. Plus my dog likes you and Champ's a great judge of character. I know I can be pushy but I swear I was just trying to catch your laptop to help you out. I didn't mean to do anything that made you uncomfortable. If it was the joke, I'm sorry about that.” He pauses and then frowns. 

“Unless you were mad because you're actually a homophobe.  But... I don't get that vibe from you. I just don't understand what happened..." He trails off, all rambled out and not sure where to go with this. 

He's missed Fenris. A lot, actually. His stomach is flip flopping with glee at the sight of him, even though he still feels a general sense of unease and confusion over the way their last encounter went. 

Fenris looks nonplused, "I'm not sure where homophobia comes into this? Unless you are talking about the elbow kissing joke in which case I would have to be incredibly juvenile to get upset over that." 

Hawke lets out a sigh of relief.  

Scuffing a shoe against the ground, Fenris continues, "I still don't know why you want to be friends with me. I'm terrible at human interaction and I have it on good authority that I could use an attitude adjustment. But... I've missed hanging out with you too. I just... you startled me when you woke me up. I had a lot on my mind. At the very least I should have said something the next day, it wasn't fair to leave you in the dark." 

Hawke smiles at him. "I suppose I can find it in my heart to look past you running off and refusing to talk to me." 

He immediately regrets the joke because Fenris gets this guilty look on his face and Hawke feels like the biggest asshole ever. 

"Sorry, that was uncalled for. We just made up and everything. As you can see, I'm not socially gifted either. But I guess that makes us a matched set?" 

That makes Fenris laugh a little. It's a soft snort, so fast Hawke almost misses it. The tension breaks and Hawke lets out the breath that he has been holding since Fenris ran off. 

"Indeed." Says Fenris. 

They're quiet again for a beat, but it is no longer the awkward quiet of two people who are both trying to determine if the other one is angry with them. 

"So," Hawke says, at length, "You sounded pretty mad at your roommate over the phone, if you'd rather just leave him here I won't judge. You sure you don't just want me to cover your rent instead?" 

Fenris's lip twitches, as he responds, “No, I appreciate the offer, but I cannot ask you to do that. If you help me bail him out I _will_ pay you back as soon as I can. If I could just leave him here to rot, I would. But the landlord will only accept rent checks from tenants for 'anti-fraud' reasons... Ugh. It's a mess. Again, I'm sorry that I dragged you into this. I just... don't have anyone else to call." 

Hawke is about to respond, to tell him that it's fine, that he's truly just glad to be able to help Fenris out, and that he doesn't even need to worry about it because what's a couple hundred bucks between friends, when the door of the jail swings open with a creak, and a red-haired woman sticks her head out. 

"Garrett Hawke, is that you?" Says the woman, who Hawke recognizes as his childhood friend, and the girl who used to beat him soundly at Mario Kart after school. 

"Aveline! What are you doing here?" He says, smiling. 

She gestures at her blue police uniform, "What kind of a question is that? I work here and you know it! The real question is what are _you_ doing here?" 

"Ah yes, how could I forget?" he says. 

"And we're here to bail my roommate out of jail." Says Fenris, with great disdain. 

Aveline gets this disapproving look on her face. "Garrett, please tell me that your not here because _his_ roommate is _your_ boyfriend? I thought that your taste was finally improving." 

"What?" Says Hawke, indignantly, "No! I'm just here as a favor to Fenris. Besides you know I'd tell you if I got a new boyfriend, felonious or otherwise." 

"Anders is no one's boyfriend," Fenris snaps, looking between Hawke and Aveline. 

The policewoman looks slowly between then, one eyebrow raised, then shrugs. 

"Well. If he's the same Anders that I arrested last night, then all I can say is that I'm very glad to know you are not dating him, Garrett. And I suppose condolences are in order," she looks at Fenris, "for having to share a home with him. Did you know, we found him chained to the statue of Andraste outside of Governor Guerrin’s house, wearing nothing but his boxers and a sign that said 'private healthcare is murder'?"

Fenris groans and Hawke can't help the snort of surprised laughter that escapes him. "Really?" 

Aveline makes a face. "My partner Donic couldn't stop laughing so I had to make the arrest. Your roommate yelled the whole time about how we were oppressing him and upholding the system that was killing thousands of people. I'm just not sure how the nudity plays into the whole cause, to be honest." 

She pushes the door open wider, beckoning them inside the jail. "Anyhow, you should probably come get him sorted out. He's stirring up the other prisoners. If he keeps this up we're going to have to add another count of inciting civil unrest to his list of charges." 

Hawk had been prepared to pay out the bail when Fenris had explained the situation. If he's being honest, since he made partner at his law firm, he's actually been making way more money than he knows what to do with. Using some to help Fenris out is no big deal, but Hawke is a lawyer and it does seem like a waste to not even try to get Anders out for free. It takes two hours, a lot of legalese and no small measure of sweet-talking Aveline but he manages to get all the charges dropped. 

He is more than a little curious about the guy that Fenris lives with so reluctantly, because until that morning, Hawke hadn't even known that Fenris had a roommate. That his roommate is a healthcare activist and something of a nudist... well, that really only makes it better. 

They're standing in the lobby of the jail, waiting for Aveline's partner Donic to bring the errant Anders out. When he comes around the corner, dressed in orange prison scrubs and wearing a mulish expression on his face, he's not at all what Hawke had been expecting. He looks more like a coffeehouse singer than the doctor Fenris had described. Anders is a few inches shy of Hawke's height, rather lean, even bordering on skinny, and his long, blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail. 

"Fenris. You came." Anders says, looking up and catching sight of Hawke standing by Fenris's side, "And you brought a friend." 

There is an inarticulate sound of disgust from his left and Hawke glances down at Fenris. If looks could kill, Anders would be six feet under. 

"Anders. Get in the car." Fenris says in a voice that is tight with rage. 

"What, you're not going to introduce me?" Says Hawke, feigning insult. 

Fenris gestures between them. "Hawke, this is Anders. Anders, this is Hawke. He's the reason you're not going to court." 

"So, you got yourself a public indecency charge. How scandalous!" Says Hawke by way of greeting, because he likes stirring the pot. 

Anders gets this weird expression on his face like he can't decide if he's annoyed, grateful, or just plain old embarrassed. 

"I know you probably won't believe this, but when I chained myself to the statue I was wearing clothes. Being almost naked in public was never my intention. Private healthcare inequality is a real problem and those delinquents who took my clothing, when I fell asleep, have now made this entire cause laughable in the eyes of Kirkwall's civil servants. I would never have done anything to trivialize my cause on purpose!" 

Hawke laughs but doesn't say anything. He's irritated with the guy on Fenris's behalf, but he _does_ feel a little bad for Anders, who has clearly had a hard night. For the most part, he’s just not sure that he's capable of opening his mouth without being rude right now. And with Aveline still watching them like a hawk from behind the reception desk, being rude isn't a safe option. He's known her forever and loves her like a sister but she scares the crap out of him.

The blond doctor flushes and looks at the floor. "Well, I guess I owe you something for helping to keep me out of court..." Anders mutters. 

"How about this; you pay Fenris's share of the rent this month and we'll call it even." 

Anders’ eyebrows shoot up so fast that Hawke is afraid that they're going to fly right off his face. 

"But that's almost $400! And it's not my job to pay for him!" He protests, all traces of his previously friendly demeanor gone, replaced by indignation. 

Hawke shrugs, no longer laughing. His eyes are fixed on Anders. "Well, your bail was set at $500 and _that_ wasn't his job to pay for, and yet he managed to figure something out. So you cover his rent or I send you a bill for services rendered and let me assure you that if you're worried about $400, you really won't like my bill." 

The orange-clad doctor throws his hands up in defeat, looking uneasily at Hawke who has his best 'serious lawyer' game face on. "Fine, fine. I'll pay his damn rent, but I'm pretty sure this counts as extortion." 

Hawke is pretty sure this counts as extortion too and since Aveline is wearing a scowl and crossing her arms in a way that says she's thinking about arresting him, he needs to tread lightly. At Hawke's side, Fenris lets out another of those almost inaudible huffs of laughter. 

"Well I hope _you're_ happy, now that your boyfriend has made this episode of public humiliation complete." Anders snaps, before storming past them and out the front door of the jail. He moves too fast for anyone to even deny his claim, not that Hawke feels any real motivation to. He likes the sound of himself as Fenris's boyfriend, even if it is just a case of mistaken identity. 

The door groans shut and everyone in the lobby watches in silence for a few seconds and Anders stomps his way across the street to Fenris's ancient blue Honda. 

"Hawke." 

"Garrett." Says Hawke. 

" _Garrett._ " Fenris says, rolling his eyes, and Hawke's breath catches in his throat because Fenris has _never_ used his first name before and it rolls so delightfully off of his tongue. 

"Yes." He says and Fenris looks at him a little strangely before shaking his head. 

"You didn't need to bully him into paying my rent, you know. I was going to do that myself on the ride home." 

Hawke scratches his beard, "I know, I think I got a little carried away. But he put you in a tough situation and turnabout is fair play..." 

Fenris rolls his eyes. "He's going to be impossible... well... _more_ impossible to live with from here on out. But thank you for the help. I mean it. And I _will_ find a way to repay you." 

A wide grin spreads across Hawke's face. For once Fenris looks open and earnest. Gratitude, and probably the satisfaction if watching his much-loathed roommate suffer, have eased his frosty countenance into something more approachable. 

"You know I'm just happy to help. Besides it was fun. I got to flex some lawyer muscles I haven't used since law school. However, if you insist, I will accept payment in the form of you joining me on weekend walks again. They're no fun by myself.” He winks and Fenris actually smiles in return. It's just a quirk of the lips but Hawke feels like the heavens have parted. 

 _I'm in way too deep,_ he thinks, but he can't quite bring himself to care. He should probably feel like Fenris is using him, but he doesn’t. And to be honest, even if he did, he wouldn't care. Despite the events of the last week, he just doesn't strike him as the kind of person who would use others indiscriminately to achieve his own ends. 

"Alright. I believe I can do that." Says Fenris, smiling a little again, then his expression sours, "But for now, much as I would rather stay and talk to you, I have a roommate to deal with. I will see you soon, Garrett." 

Then he turns and walks out of the jail, leaving Hawke to the tender mercy of Aveline who is demanding to know _what exactly_ Hawke's relationship with Fenris is. Hawke can't answer her because he himself is not even remotely sure. 

* * *

The drive back from the jail is excruciating. Anders is sulking and Fenris's stomach is experiencing a repeat performance by the flock of butterflies that seems to turn up in all Hawke-related situations.

This morning has led to some very interesting realizations. Fenris would love it if he could talk them out with someone, but he has no one besides Anders, so he's stuck mulling over what he's learned in his head. 

For starters: Hawke is _gay_. Or at least bisexual. But the way that Officer Vallen and he had been talking definitely made it sound like his tastes leaned masculine. 

Second: he is nearly positive that if he could get up the courage to start something, Hawke would be all for it. He hadn't even flinched when Anders insinuated that they were in a relationship and after everything that Fenris had put Hawke through the only thing that he wanted was… _more time with Fenris_. 

Third: the moment that he had caught sight of Hawke, he had known that there wasn't going to be any more avoidance. He has totally, helplessly tumbled for Hawke and the idea of not seeing him all the time makes Fenris's chest constrict. 

But what all of this amounts to is a choice. He can carry on in silence and try to remain friends with Hawke. This is certainly the safer given Fenris's less than stellar romantic track record, but also a sure path to a prolonged state of pining. Or he can grow a pair and tell Hawke how he feels. This could lead to possibly starting a relationship with him, and definitely ruining everything forever when things eventually go south. These are both terrible options. 

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't see the truck pulling into his lane until it's almost too late. Anders lets out a loud cry of alarm, alerting Fenris to their impending doom, and he swerves out of the way, missing the truck by a hair's breadth. The second they are no longer in immediate danger of crashing, his foot slams down on the breaks and he almost stands the car on its nose. They are both jerked forward and back by the motion, and Fenris’s face almost slams into the steering wheel. 

"Jesus Christ, Fenris! Eyes on the road!" Anders snarls, "I don't know _what_ you're thinking about but it can't be worth killing both of us over." 

"It might be." Fenris mutters darkly. 

Anders lets out a disgusted sound. "You are so melodramatic. This is about that Hawke guy, isn't it?" 

Fenris cautiously release the break and they begin rolling forwards once more. "I just had to collect you from jail, where everyone knows you as the nudist activist. The amount that I want to talk to you about _anything ever_ has just decreased significantly. So please enlighten me as to why I should have this personal and awkward discussion with you?" 

Anders begins ticking off points on his fingers, "A: I'm not a nudist and I told you, my clothes were stolen by hooligans. B: I don't care if you want to talk to me or not, you're going to get us killed if I let you drift back to la-la land. And C: it's obvious that you have the emotional maturity of a five year old, which is honestly pathetic, and if I don't help you no one will." 

The "because you have no other friends " goes unsaid.

Fenris knows he's having a really bad day when fucking _Anders_ is right about something. 

"So, spit it out. What's eating you?" 

Fenris rolls his eyes and turns down the main road through Lowtown. "I… may have… feelings for Hawke." 

"Wow," says Anders, applauding him sarcastically, "stop the press because this is a major breakthrough." 

"You're the one who wouldn't let me keep this to myself so either listen or get out and walk." Fenris snaps. 

He's feeling a bit unhinged right now, as though Anders pestering has opened a wide crack in his already weakened emotional defenses, and feelings, like spouts of water, have begun gushing out all over the place. 

"Okay, fine. You know that he's clearly crazy about you, emphasis on the word crazy, right? I could tell that after five minutes. I don't understand why you're not off engaging in disgusting displays of affection with each other, instead of sitting around and brooding about it." 

"Because I am bad at relationships." 

Anders shrugs. "Congratulations, you're human. There is no one on earth who is just born knowing how to be good at them. And it's fucking dumb to refuse to try out of fear of something that isn't even guaranteed to happen." 

"Isn't it?" Fenris slams his fist into the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn and causing his car to emit a loud honk. "You don't understand; I have torpedoed every relationship I've been in over the last five years! Things got too heavy or the person I was with made one wrong move and I was gone. I can't do trust any more, Anders. The second I feel like it's going too well or it's about to go wrong... I cut my losses and run."

They stop at a red light and Fenris sneaks a glance at Anders who is staring thoughtfully out the window. 

"Maybe," the doctor says, with uncharacteristic kindness, "you just haven't found a person worth sticking around for." 

Fenris stares at his roommate. For a brief second he considers telling Anders the truth. The one that lies underneath all his talk of being terrible at relationships and not trusting people. The reason and the catalyst for everything. But... it's a secret that he has never told; an old wound that still aches and this is still _Anders_. So Fenris shoves that stuff down deeper, stoppering up the dam before the last of the water can escape. _That_ relationship and _that_ time are memories best left undisturbed for now. 

He's already said more than he intended to, made himself more vulnerable than he is comfortable with. All things considered, he feels like he's had enough character development for one day. 

Dragging himself out of the quagmire of his thoughts, he mulls over Anders' words. At the very least it's a valid point. Fenris has never stopped to wonder if the reason he kept breaking up with people is just that they weren't worth the effort. His gut rebels at the thought; the lingering ghosts of what he once felt for his partners wanting to reject the idea out of hand... but there is enough truth to the idea that he can't dismiss the words outright. 

 _It's at least worth considering._  

They make a left on to Darktown road and the Mansion Apartments appear before them, a looming eyesore, even amongst the derelict houses that line the street. The ancient, dead oak tree out front has dropped a branch onto the front walkway and three of the eight units on the front of the building have cracked windows. 

"What a fucking dump." He says. 

"Home sweet home," mutters Anders and Fenris can't help his involuntary snort of laughter in response.

"Go pay the rent, you criminal." Fenris says, parking his car in front of the building, while Anders mutters something obscene under his breath. 

* * *

 _“Hey cuz! Alistair and I are finally opening our cheese and wine bar in Hightown. Big party's on Friday night @9. Come and bring all your fancy lawyer friends.”_  

The text message makes his phone vibrate, waking Hawke up from a dead sleep. It takes him a few seconds to understand what he's seeing, but once the words penetrate his brain, a wide smile stretches across his face. He has a lot of cousins, but Solona Amell-Therin has always been his favorite. 

Solona and the three Hawke children all grew up together and spent the majority of their childhood chasing each other around Leandra Hawke’s massive back yard. After the twins left Kirkwall for college (Bethany went on to med school and Carver dropped out to pursue a career as a DJ) he and Solona had grown closer. They had promised to keep each other from going off the deep end while Hawke was trying to make partner and Solona was juggling the dual challenges of starting her own business and planning a wedding. The success of their efforts is arguable, but their friendship, having survived all that, is rock solid.

She and her husband, Alistair- who Hawke likes as much as it's possible for him to like anyone who's an Ostwick Templars fan- have been talking about opening a cheese and wine bar for ages. Hawke is thrilled for them that they're finally going for it, but more importantly, it provides an opportunity that he's been waiting for. 

After a few weeks of awkwardly trying to be just friends with Fenris, so that they can ease back into whatever passes for normal between them, Hawke's had enough. He's come to the conclusion that it's high time he asks Fenris out, for better or worse. 

He doesn't think that Fenris would respond well to overt romance, at least not at first, so fine dining in a romantic setting is out. Nor does he think that something too casual would be obvious enough to clue Fenris in to the fact that this isn't just another friendly outing. At the very least the party will be an interesting event, which is good enough of Hawke. 

Yawning, he dashes off a message to Fenris. " _Want to go to my cousins cheese and wine bar opening with me?"_  

Fenris responds a few seconds later. " _You're using proper spelling, is everything okay?"_

He hits the call button and waits for Fenris to pick up the phone. 

 _Very funny,_ thinks Hawke. He knows his texting is terrible most of the time, it's not because he _can't_ text, it's just that he just doesn't care.

"Garrett." 

"So. What do you say? You, me, wine, cheese?" Hawke says, leaning back and throwing an arm over his head. 

There's silence on the line for a few seconds and Hawke holds his breath. 

"Are you… asking me out? On a date?" Fenris doesn't sound displeased, if anything he sounds incredulous. 

"Ah… yes." Says Hawke. 

"Okay." 

"I mean it doesn't have to be– wait, really?" Hawke's brain catches up with his mouth after he's already begun to babble. He hadn't expected Fenris to turn him down flat, not after their banter at the jail, but the instant relief at his agreement hits Hawke like a freight train.

"Yes, really. I am very fond of wine. And a night out with you would not be objectionable." 

"Oh my god, coming from you that's like a glowing endorsement." 

Fenris makes a disgusted sound. "How badly do you want this date?" He asks, reminding Hawke of their first conversation. 

"Nu-uh. You admitted that going on a date with me 'would not be objectionable' and I'm afraid that there's just no going back from that." This is the best day of Hawke's life and everything is amazing. 

"Don't make me regret this…" Fenris groans. 

With a laugh, Hawke lets his arm fall to his side. Champ, who is lying on his back, belly in the air and tongue lolling out of his mouth, butts his massive head under Hawke's fingers and licks his palm. He scratches the Marbari's chest and Champ wriggles around in delight, like the goddamn hedonist that he is. 

"So the opening is this Friday. Dress nicely and I'll come pick you up at 8:45. Which reminds me, what's your address?" 

"Oh. You don't have to do that. I can drive myself." Fenris says, very quickly. Too quickly. Hawke's lawyer senses are tingling. They have never once hung out at Fenris's place and, despite Hawke insisting that he really doesn't care what it looks like. Fenris has always had a good excuse to keep him away, but he's not getting out of it this time. 

"Naw, come on! It'll be romantic. I've always dreamed of rolling up to your house and sweeping you off your feet." Says Hawke, "Plus I want to see this apartment that I helped keep you from losing." 

"I think your life is better for not having seen it." Fenris says, morosely. "Also this neighborhood is... tremendously popular with muggers. You're sure you want to bring your car down here? 

"Oh come on," Hawke wheedles, "It can’t be that bad!" 

"Suit yourself. But if someone steals your fancy hubcaps don't come crying to me." Fenris says, testily. Then he heaves a sigh like he just doesn't know why he's even putting up with any of this, and gives Hawke his address.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's part 3. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Thanks again for all the lovely comments; I can't express how happy they make me. I'm glad you all enjoyed the story so far!

Friday night rolls around much sooner than Fenris is prepared for and by the time the clock reads 8:30, he has worked himself into something of a state.

He's going on a date. A real date. With maybe kissing and touching and… _other things_ afterwards. _With Hawke._

Fenris is going to be sick.

"This was a terrible mistake." He says, tossing yet another black shirt across the room. There's a pile forming on his bed and he's aware that he is turning into a romcom cliché but he can't seem to help it. He wants to look good tonight.

"I should call Hawke and cancel." He mutters.

"Don't even think about it." Says Anders from the living room. He's been watching some sort of medical soap opera for the last two hours and he's alternating between yelling at the show and yelling at Fenris.

"If I had known that you were going to get like this, I never would have suggested that you try to get in touch with your feelings. But as it stands, you're already invested and I _do not_ want to have to see this side of you ever again. So you're going out with Hawke, you're getting whatever this is out of your system then you will come home and go back you being your usual grumpy self."

Fenris can't tell if he should feel supported or insulted, but before he can say anything, his phone buzzes.

_"C u in 5 "_

Hawke is the only grown man who Fenris has ever met who uses emojis on a regular basis. Most of the time he thinks it's sort of juvenile but in this case, it makes him feel better. Because he remembers that this is _Hawke_ who is a massive nerd who still likes Fenris, even after everything. He could probably wear a paper bag and Hawke would be okay with that.

He stops freaking out, grabs the last shirt from the pile, and pulls it on over his head. In tight black jeans and his fitted black button-down, he looks kind of like a hipster going to a poetry reading, but he is a writer so that's probably appropriate. He shoves his feet into shoes and wanders out to the living room.

He drops down besides Anders, onto the worn sofa, which has seen much better days. On the TV screen, a woman is crying and beating her fists against a handsome doctor's chest, yelling about how unfair life is.

"This show is garbage." Says Fenris.

"Yeah but the signal's being difficult again so it's all I can pick. Well, besides the televangelist network and the news station. But there isn't any news on right now, just an infomercial for some sort of weird spatula that helps you flip two pancakes at once." Anders looks at Fenris. "Feeling better?"

Fenris makes a noncommittal sound.

"Excellent." Says the doctor, and he goes back to watching his show. The woman is now throwing a full-blown tantrum. "Now get out of here. Your constant sighing is distracting."

Hawke is ten minutes late, but this doesn't surprise Fenris. He has never known Hawke to be on time for anything. In fact, Hawke would most likely be late to his own funeral.

When the massive black Escalade turns the corner and rolls down the street, Fenris is leaning- in what he hopes is a casual fashion -against one of the posts that supports the sagging awning over the front stoop. Somehow, Fenris had managed to forget exactly what kind of car Hawke drives, thanks to all his anxiety about the date. Now that he's seeing it again, he's strongly reconsidering his previous stance on not wanting Hawke to drive them to the party. The SVU is the douchiest thing Fenris has ever seen in his entire life.

But Hawke is already here, rolling down his window and calling out to him. "Hey there Fenris!"

So he stalks forwards and gets in the car before Hawke can park, climb out and make a bigger scene. His neighbor Wynne is already going to have more than enough to talk about and Fenris hates the idea of giving her more gossip fodder.

"You're late." He says, climbing into the passenger seat. "Also I had forgotten that your car was so... excessive."

"Yeah, yeah; there was a wreck on the freeway. Nice to see you too, by the way, you look great. And my car isn't excessive, it's powerful." Hawke grins at him.

"Just get your _powerful_ car out of here before someone tries to steal it." Fenris snarks.

With a laugh, Hawke puts the car is drive and they head out onto the road. He looks good, Fenris has to admit. Though Hawke usually looks good, even when he's sweaty and gross from running with Champ. It's probably a side effect of his overabundance of self-confidence. He's wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a black sports coat. It's like cool is just his default state of being.

Hawke fiddles with a knob on his dashboard, turning down the volume on the terrible rap song, and sighs. "Just so you know, you are my date to this, but Soli threatened to kill me if I didn't invite some people from my law firm- something about 'rich lawyers being her target client base' so there may be a few other people there who I invited. Or like… a lot."

Fenris shrugs. He's not the jealous sort and he can barely hear Hawke over the rushing blood in his ears anyway. They are on a date. Right now. It's happening.

"Oh, and Varric is coming so I can introduce you two tonight if you want. But even if you don't want, he'll probably introduce himself anyway."

"Wait, what?" Fenris's head turns so fast that he hurts himself a little.

Hawke looks worried. "That's a good thing, right? I thought you might still want to meet him but he's so busy... If you don't want to meet him, I guess I can…"

"No, no, this is a surprise but I'm definitely pleased." Fenris smiles at Hawke, just a tiny uptick of the lips but Hawke's answering smile stretches from ear to ear.

 _Cheese & Whine_ is on a swanky part of Hightown's Main Street, close to Hawke's law office and sandwiched between a trendy restaurant and an even trendier nightclub. This is not the part of town that Fenris is accustomed to hanging out in. Even when he had money from writing for _Golf & Getaways_, this wasn't really his scene.

Most places on this part of the street have a sort of glossy manufactured elegance to them. The people who hang out there want to be seen by the right people before getting wasted as fast as possible. It’s all very tragic in the  _Brave New World_ kind of way that sets Fenris’s teeth on edge.

Hawke could have taken him to any of those places and he would have gone (mostly) without complaining because it would be with Hawke. But the cheese and wine bar doesn't look quite like the rest of the businesses on the street. His relief at catching his first glimpse of the bar's patrons and not seeing a crowd of dead-eyed nouveau-riche club hoppers is profound.

The people he can see through the wide windows of the wood-paneled bar look like they’re having fun and the décor is charmingly rustic. It also feels very familiar, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why that is.

Hawke pulls into the valet line in front of the bar.

“Thank god they thought this out, we’d never get parking otherwise.” He says, turning off the engine and climbing out of the car.

Fenris rolls his eyes because it’s only nine and they saw at least six spots only a few blocks away, but he doesn’t bother arguing. If Hawke wants to be lazy and waste his money, that’s on him.

“Enjoy your evening, sirs.” Says the gangly teenager who takes Hawke’s keys and hands him a bright pink ticket in exchange. He pockets the slip and steps around the car to join Fenris on the curb.

“It looks busy in there. Soli will be happy.” He drapes an arm around Fenris’s shoulders. His stomach swoops wildly. “Come on, let’s go get some free food.”

“Very classy, Hawke.” Fenris says with a smirk.

Hawke laughs. “That’s me; the classiest guy around.”

The door to _Cheese & Whine_ is propped open and laid-back jazz mixed with the sound of the crowd filters out onto the street. Even though the party has just started, it’s already hopping. The two of them make their way into the packed bar, snagging glasses of wine as they go, off of the tray held by a waiter near the entrance.

The room is large and bright with counters and barstools along two of the walls and high tables scattered throughout the open floor. A massive refrigerated glass case takes up the majority of the bar’s back wall, and a small stage occupies the remaining space. A live band is playing and people are dancing in the space in front of them. It’s a small crowd now, though Fenris suspects that their numbers will continue to grow as the night wears on and more wine is consumed.

Waiters, like the ones who gave them their wine are roaming around with trays of cheese samples, though there does appear to be a proper buffet happening at the back as well.

He takes a drink of his wine, trying to steady his nerves.

 _This is good_ , Fenris thinks, _so much better than the garbage I’ve been drinking recently. God, I need to get published again._

“We should go mingle.” Hawke says, though Fenris doesn’t get the chance to respond because of a commotion to their left.

“Garrett! You came!” A very tall blonde woman in a tight black dress is barreling through the crowd towards the two them. She throws her arms around Hawke’s neck, separating him from Fenris and almost spilling the wine of everyone involved.

“Soli! Nice party!” Hawke says, delighted.

Fenris feels an immediate stab of irritation towards this invading stranger, until she pulls away and several things click into place, including the reason that the bar’s decorating scheme looks familiar.

“And you brought a date! Introduce me to– Fenris?” Says Solona Amell-Therin, eyes going wide in surprise.

“Solona?” He says, equally surprised.

“You know each other?” Says Hawke, looking between his date and his cousin.

Solona punches Hawke in the shoulder. “Oh my god, Garrett! Why didn’t you tell me that you knew my dog walker?”

“He’s my dog walker too, but mostly he’s my date.” Hawke says.

“He’s also right here.” Fenris says, a little irritated with the way this conversation is going. Being called a dog walker by these two very successful pretty people is setting his teeth on edge. It might be true but it doesn't feel good to hear it.

And of course Hawke’s cousin is one of his clients too. As if his life isn’t embarrassing enough already. Solona is smart, intense, and insanely wealthy from all her various endeavors, the most prominent of which is her successful interior-decorating career. If anyone were going to intimidate Fenris, it would be her. She’s just too good at too many things to be a regular human being. It's unnatural.

But right now, Solona looks a little frazzled and the pink flush on her cheeks tells Fenris that she might be sort of drunk.

“Oh, I'm being rude, aren't I? Welcome to the party, Fenris! I haven’t seen you in ages so I didn’t get the chance to invite you. I’m so glad that Garrett brought you with him…” Solona seems to lose the thread of her monologue for a second, blue eyes darting around the room, then she refocuses in on him, “Oh my god, sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just freaking out about this opening. It means so much to Alistair I just want everything to go right. Also I’m tipsy.”

She giggles a little, then hiccups and covers her mouth, looking mortified.

“It’s good to see you again, Solona.” He says, feeling suddenly much more relaxed. Fenris likes drunk Solona more than sober Solona, even if she is a little spacey. “The bar looks good, is this your work?”

“Yep. Alistair wanted to cover the whole thing with super on-the-nose cheese themed décor but I have a reputation to keep up, so that just wasn’t going to happen.” Solona makes a disgusted face. “I can’t have people saying that I’m the decorator with the husband who owns a cheesy bar.”

“Well, Soli, despite your best efforts, I’m afraid it’s still a cheesy bar,” Says Hawke, smirking at his glowering cousin, “But to your credit, it’s not the decorations that are responsible for that.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You now what you should do with that big mouth, little cousin?” She says, “Put some cheese in it. And then go find all the lawyers I know you invited and tell them that everything is delicious and they should come here to buy their cheese all the time.”

* * *

The party might have gotten off to a bit of an awkward start, but Solona’s blundering greeting actually does some good because it breaks the ice. After she bustles off to greet other guests, Hawke turns to Fenris, ready to apologize, only to see something of a smile lurking around his mouth.

“Your cousin is an interesting woman.” He says, looking up at Hawke, “I’m surprised that I didn’t see the family resemblance sooner, excessive height and big personalities must be hereditary.”

He’s not sure if he should be insulted or not, but Fenris is smiling so he’s not going to complain. It’s not that surprising that Fenris didn’t put two and two together until just then. Solona is a blue-eyed blonde with curly hair. She is quite tall, but there’s softness to her figure that could not be more different from his own solidly built frame. She takes after the Amell side of their family far more than any of the Hawke children ever did.

“Come on, Fenris, let’s go get some cheese.”  Hawke drapes his arm around Fenris’s shoulders once more, and holy shit, he can’t believe that he’s allowed to do that now.

They wander through the crowd, dodging cheerful partygoers and wait staff, slowly making their way towards the massive glass counter where the bar’s main attraction sits. Fifty-three different cheeses from all around the world are proudly on display, alongside fruits, crackers, and crusty loaves of bread.

“I have to ask,” Fenris says, “why a cheese and wine bar? You must admit it’s something of an unusual venture.”

Hawke shakes his head and sighs. “It’s Alistair’s thing. He has two main passions in life: cheese and historical reenactment. Since he’s technically a public figure, as the nephew of the mayor, Teagan Guerrin, he can’t just go running around in a suit of armor for fun and profit. Solona told him to open up a cheese and wine restaurant if he was bored.”

Fenris snorts. “That sounds about right.”

They approach the case and look inside. The sheer number of cheese wheels is almost overwhelming. Cheddar, Gouda, Brie, and Manchego… it’s more cheese than Hawke has ever seen in once place in his life.

“Try the Taleggio, I heard Alistair had it imported special just for tonight.” says a voice from behind them, and both he and Fenris turn to look at the speaker.

Hawke grins. “Varric!”

“In the flesh.” He replies with a wink. “And you must be Fenris. Garrett finally got his head out of his ass and asked you out?”

Fenris snorts and says, “I see he’s been keeping you well informed.”

“Hey!” says Hawke, “What kind of a question is that? What if I hadn’t asked him out yet?”

Varric laughs. “You’re joking, right? You have your arm around his shoulders. If you haven’t asked him out yet then you’re _both_ hopeless.”

* * *

“So then Isabella said to the editor: ‘ _if your dick ever comes near me again, I’ll rip it off and feed it to you_ ’ and that’s why everyone at Thedas Press is pretty much terrified of her.” Varric leans forwards a little, looking Fenris dead in the eye. “When you meet her, I just want you to know that she’s going to try her best to simultaneously scare the shit out of you and while hitting on you aggressively, just to throw you off balance. Just keep your head and don’t rise to any of her baiting. If your work is good, you have a solid chance of getting her to take you on.”

Fenris and Varric have been hanging out by the cheese buffet, talking shop for the last half hour, while Hawke has been working the floor, saying hi to everyone he knows. Which from Fenris’s vantage point looks like quite a lot of people.

He’s a little disappointed that they’re not getting to just spend all their time together, but Hawke had enthusiastically encouraged his conversation with Varric. So Fenris is allowing himself a rare moment to revel in the presence of one of his idols.

“I will take that into consideration, thank you.” He says, inclining his head to Varric. “I would be grateful just to have my work come across her desk. Her contact information is hard to get a hold of.”

Varric chuckles. “After Isabella discovered Cassandra Pentaghast, Dorian Pavus, and then myself, the whole literary world took notice. She decided that she didn’t like people being able to reach her easily.”

Fenris can’t really fault her for that. A single agent discovering three of best selling authors of the last decade is all but unheard of. Isabella is uniquely talented at signing authors with game-changing work. That sort of reputation would be enough to have every author on the planet trying to knock down her door. If he were in her shoes, he’d likely be a hermit.

“Having fun?” Asks Hawke, rejoining them at the bar. He’s carrying two full plates from the buffet, one of which he hands to Fenris.

Varric nods his head in Fenris’s direction. “I like this one, Garrett. But I’m afraid that he’s too good for you.”

Hawke stumbles back, clutching his chest as though he’s been wounded. “Betrayal! And from you of all people! Varric, you bastard.”

Fenris snorts into his wine glass. “Have you spoken to everyone in the room yet?”

“It sure feels like it. I did run into Aveline and Merrill, which was nice, and this guy I knew in law school, Cullen Rutherford, which was less nice. He was alright back then but he works for the District Attorney now and I don’t think that job is doing him any favors, he seems… stressed.”

“If he’s working for Meredith Stanard, then that's an understatement.” Fenris mutters. Just thinking about the woman (and her dogs) is enough to make him shudder with revulsion. He pops a cube of aged cheddar into his mouth.

Hawke gape at him. “Wait, you know Meredith too? Is there _anyone_ in this town that you don’t know?”

“Beware of dog walkers,” Varric says, winking at Fenris, “they mix with all classes of society and are therefore the most dangerous.”

Fenris is pretty sure that the real quote is about artists, but he’s had enough wine at this point to let it slide.

* * *

They don’t leave the party until close to midnight. They’re some of the last people to leave, as they somehow manage to get into a really long conversation with the less than sober Therin’s about childhood shenanigans. Which, before long, turns into a story-telling competition. Hawke wins with a story about the time that he and his sister replaced their brother’s shampoo with hair remover.

Fenris snort-laughing at his imitation of Carver when he realized all his hair was falling out, is a memory that Hawke will cherish for the rest of his life.

They’re both stupid drunk. Like, way drunker than Hawke has been in recent memory, and there’s no way in hell that he’s getting behind the wheel of his car like this. He collects his keys from the valet, tips him perhaps more generously than necessary, and tells him to just leave the car in the parking lot where he’ll come pick it up in the morning. To be honest, Hawke isn’t actually sure where the parking lot is, but he’s not even thinking about that right now.

Then he stumbles back into the restaurant. Fenris and his cousins are laughing about something, and all three of them are leaning against the bar– or in Alistair’s case, his wife– to remain standing.

“I don’t know why she does that. But Barkly’s been rolling in road kill since the day we got her. She’s just a bad, _bad_ dog.” Alistair is saying with a despairing look on his face.

Hawke comes up behind Fenris and wraps himself around the shorter man. The move knocks both of them off balance for a few seconds, though they manage to recover without any significant damage.

“Your dog is an angel don’t insult her. And Soli,” he says, having some difficulty figuring out where to look in order to make eye contact with her, “I need you to get us a cab.”

“You’re so responsible. I raised you right.” Slurs his cousin, who is a year younger than him, as she fishes through her purse for her phone, which is nowhere to be found. “Babe, where’s my phone?”

Alistair rolls his eyes and pulls a massive phone out of his back pocket. “You would lose your head if it wasn’t attached.” He teases and Solona snatches her phone while pulling a face at him.

“Don’t even talk to me. You spent half an hour looking for _your_ phone while talking on it last weekend.” She smirks, clicking through her apps to find Uber. Alistair looks at his wife as though she’s just betrayed his darkest secret to the universe and Fenris shakes his head.

“You are all slaves to the smartphone culture.” He mutters.

Their Uber driver is a strung out looking man named Samson, who is forced to spend several minutes assuring Solona repeatedly and with a great deal of exasperation that he will not “kidnap and murder her favorite cousin and his friend”.

“I don’t care how good the drug money is. If anything happens, I will… I will kill you.” She says, swaying on her feet.

“Yes, so you’ve said.” The driver replies, before getting back into his car where he waits, with the windows rolled up, while Hawke and Fenris say their goodbyes.

After Hawke pries Solona off of Fenris, and claps Alistair on the shoulder, he ushers his date into the back seat of the car and then falls all over himself, trying to follow.

As they pull away from the restaurant, Fenris turns to Hawke. “I like your cousins. They are my second favorite clients. After you. But I will deny all of this if you ever ask me to repeat it.”

“Awww,” says Hawke, leaning against him, “I _knew_ you liked me!”

Fenris shoves him a little. “Don’t be dumb. I don’t date people I don’t like.”

Hawke perks up at that. “So you like me? Do you like _like_ me? Are we dating now?”

“What is wrong with you? This is so high school.” Fenris shoves Hawke’s face away, rolling his eyes in disgust.

“That’s not an answer.” Hawke pouts. “You don’t have to say yes. But you should because... because I didn’t get to spend enough time with you at the party and I want a do-over.”

“Fine, _fiiiiiiine_ we are dating.” Says Fenris, sighing heavily.

Hearing Fenris say that is like being struck by a bolt of lighting. He is electrified by his happiness. Hawke hasn’t even kissed him yet. This is the most chaste and innocent date he’s ever been on and he’s over the moon anyway. Though, now that he thinks about it, he really would like to rectify the whole not having kissed Fenris thing.

He reaches over and takes Fenris’s face in his hands, and then sort of loses the thread of his actions, too caught up with thinking about kissing and just being drunk to actually get the deed done. Fenris looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Fenris says.

“I want to kiss you.” Says Hawke.

Fenris doesn’t even bother waiting for him to make the first move though, because he swoops in and presses his mouth to Hawke’s, before the lawyer can blink.

It’s kind of messy and he sort of misses the mark a little bit, but it’s perfect. Fenris is hot against him and his mouth is demanding, relentless. This kiss is a take-no-prisoners battle and they’re both winning.

Hawke wraps an arm around Fenris’s back, buries his other hand in silver hair, and draws him close.

“Do not,” says Samson, “have sex in my car.”

* * *

Samson drops them both at Hawke’s house. This solution is agreeable to all parties involved because Fenris has no desire to stop kissing Hawke and the Uber driver has no desire to take either one of them any further.

They stumble up the walkway, holding each other up and crashing into the bushes on either side of the path more than a few times before they make it to the stairs. They don’t fare much better on those, however and Fenris almost breaks his neck trying to keep up with Hawke’s longer step.

Vaguely he thinks that this is maybe a dumb idea and this whole relationship this is both too new and still kind of a bad idea, but they’re drunk and he _wants_ this so badly. He’s wanted Hawke for months, even when he didn’t want to want him. And thoughts of getting Hawke where he is right now were always in the back of Fenris’s mind.

“Keys.” Hawke gasps against Fenris’s mouth, pulling Fenris out of his thoughts.

‘What.” Says Fenris, feeling like he’s floating and cannot come back to any kind of reality that does not involve more kissing and less talking.

“Can’t get in without keys.” Hawke fumbles around for his keys and then fumbles some more once he has them in hand, as he tries to get the door open.

The appearance of Champ prevents them from immediately resuming their previous activities, once Hawke manages to get the door open. The Mabari barks and bounces all around, demanding attention.

“Shhhhh!” Hawke says to his exuberant dog, squatting down and taking hold of the animal’s face in both of his hands. “Don’t cockblock me, bro.”

The Mabari whines but settles down and Fenris eyes the dog. He wonders once again, exactly how much English Champ understands.

Fenris stumbles drunkenly over to the sofa, leaving Hawke to tend to his dog. It’s dumb, he knows to be jealous of the Mabari when he didn’t mind Hawke running off to talk to people all evening at the party. But he was so close to getting what he wanted and then the pest had to go and make a scene.

He’s starting to drift now, the combination of far too much alcohol and sitting still turning his brain to mush. Fenris’s eyes flutter shut for a second but he forces them back open. He’s waited too long for this to just fall asleep now. From the kitchen he hears the sound of Hawke talking to his dog followed by claws clicking on the hardwood floor and a door closing.

“I put the dog in the… in the laundry room.” Says Hawke, as he staggers into Fenris’s line of sight and he is abruptly awake again. “He’s mad but… he’ll live.”

With a laugh, Fenris gets to his feet with some difficulty. They stand there for a few seconds, looking at each other, before Fenris throws caution to the wind and practically launches himself at Hawke. They careen backwards and Hawke’s back hits the wall with an audible thump. Fenris kisses the taller man with a ferocity that shocks both of them, but after a split second of stunned inaction, Hawke responds in kind. He wraps his arms around Fenris’s torso, lifting him off the ground. Fenris wraps his legs around Hawke’s waist and moans.

Fenris shoves at Hawke’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and then tugging the soft cotton hem of his t-shirt up. He is fighting hard, desperate for increased access to warm skin. It’s awkward and actually not that sexy, but neither one of them cares at all. Hawke almost loses his grip on Fenris trying to help him, but they somehow manage to get the clothing off eventually and oh yes, shirtless Hawke is everything he had hoped.

Hawke's definitely a little harrier than Fenris usually goes for, but it totally works on him in a hot lumberjack kind of way. Then Hawke licks a stripe down Fenris’s throat, beard scraping a little against his skin. The unfamiliar sensation makes him shudder, and Fenris stops thinking.

Hawke bites down on the juncture of Fenris’s neck and the pleasure–pain jolt shoots straight to his groin. Every rasp of his tongue across the abused skin is setting him on fire, burning him to a crisp, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

Right now there are two pairs of pants and at least one pair of boxer briefs– on his part, he sort of suspects that Hawke might be going commando– between them. In Fenris’s book, that is far too much clothing.

“Garrett,” he says, and Hawke, who has been sucking marks into the skin of Fenris’s neck, mumbles something unintelligible that might be “what?” in return.

“Bed. Now.” Fenris growls, dropping back to stand on his own feet so that he can pull his lover along.

“Your wish is my… my… command.” Hawke says, trying for suave and missing by a mile.

They are a mess; stripping clothing from each other and themselves, falling all over the place and stealing kisses in between. Halfway down the hall, Fenris learns that he was in fact right; Hawke was not wearing underwear.

They will likely be black and blue from their clumsiness in the morning, but as they laugh and half chase, half drag each other through the house, Fenris doesn’t care at all.

Hawke reaches out, grappling for the doorknob. They burst into the room and Fenris, walking backwards, trips over a stray shoe. Hawke catches him and they crash onto the bed in a tangle of naked limbs. Fenris is still wearing his briefs, but Hawke is nude as the day he was born. Unlike most people who seem to grow self-conscious and shy once naked, Hawke has only grown bolder.

Hawke’s chin rests on Fenris’s chest and he stares into his eyes, grinning like a fool. “Oops.”

“Oops my ass. Get busy or get off.” Fenris grumbles, though his smirking grin softens the tone of his words.

He runs his nails through the wiry hair on Hawke’s chest and grinds their hips together with hard desperation. The way that he groans, fingers flexing frantically against Fenris’s waist in response, is the best thing Fenris has ever seen.

Finally through with messing around, Hawke surges forward, capturing his lips again. He sucks Fenris’s lower lip and nips at it playfully. Fenris laps against the seam of Hawke’s lips, tongue sweeping into his mouth and tangling with Hawke’s.

Fenris slides his hands down Hawke’s back, grabbing a hold of his ass; that flawless backside that has been haunting his memories and driving him insane for weeks. He squeezes and Hawke, the bastard, _flexes_. Fenris would have rolled his eyes, but the motion causes Hawke to grind against him, causing his dick to press and slide against Fenris’s own in a way that is sinfully perfect. But it’s not enough, not even close.

“Don’t… be a… fucking… tease.” He groans against Hawke’s neck.

“So bossy.” Hawke laughs.

He’s poised to keep talking, but Fenris has other ideas. Impatiently, he reaches between their bodies and takes Hawke’s dick in his hand. It’s long and thick, like the rest of Hawke, but soft kind of delicate too; and Fenris revels in his partner’s sharp inhalation at the contact. Fenris pumps him slow and easy, squeezing a little and pressing his thumb up against the underside of the head. Hawke’s entire body shudders and Fenris thinks that knowing he has the power to make Hawke come apart with nothing but his hands might just be the best damn thing in the entire universe.

With what looks like tremendous effort, Hawke stills the motions of Fenris's hand. He's flushed and panting, and his eyes lock with Fenris's own.

“Get naked,” gasps Hawke, “I really want to fuck you.”

“You'd better.” Moans Fenris, who sets about divesting himself of his briefs.

They’re too drunk for grace, too wound up by their prolonged inability to stop orbiting each other and just come together.

It takes an eternity for Hawke to get him ready; he drops the lube bottle three different times and then spends entirely too long just teasing him open with slick fingers. Fenris bitches and moans, teasing and taunting him, the whole time, which only serves to make Hawke go slower. But when Hawke finally and gleefully deems him “prepared and lubed enough” and buries himself balls deep inside of Fenris, it all seems worth the wait.

Unsurprisingly, Hawke is a powerful lover. How could he be anything but, with his massive thigh muscles and boundless energy? But he’s not the kind of guy who lies back on the laurels of his physical perfection and expects that to be enough to carry the whole operation to the end. He reaches one hand around, taking hold of Fenris’s dick and jacking it slow and steady, in time with each thrust. His other arm is a band of iron, palm flat against Fenris’s chest, pressing their bodies together.

He feels close to Hawke in body and soul, safe within the confines of his arms and more certain that he has been in ages, that he can let himself go without fear.

Hawke drops a kiss between Fenris’s shoulder blades, tongue darting out to chase the white ink of his tattoos across his skin, and Fenris fucking loses it. He’s dying and it’s everything he’s ever wanted. When Hawke’s thrusts, deep and hard, brush against his prostate one last time, Fenris comes undone.

His orgasm hits him like a freight train. He almost panics from the intensity, and the strangled yell that escapes from his throat is followed shortly by a hoarse cry from Hawke as he too goes sailing over the precipice.

They collapse together on the bed, panting hard and sticky with sweat. Hawke slides out and cruls his arm around Fenris, drawing him into the curve of his body. Fenris has never been one for cuddling; especially not sweaty cuddling after sex, but there’s something quite nice about lying there with Hawke, just touching each other. Hawke nuzzles his face against the top of Fenris’s head and places a kiss there.

Then the alcohol and the exhaustion of post-coital bliss catch up with him, and Fenris passes out.

* * *

Hawke has the worst hangover in the history of really terrible hangovers. When he cracks an eye open, the room swims and his stomach heaves. His head is pounding like someone took a jackhammer to it and for a few minutes he can’t remember where he is or why he feels this way.

Then things begin to return to him. The party. The ride home. Fenris. The sex. Oh god, the sex.

He had sex with Fenris. And it was _amazing_ sex, to boot. But now he’s too hung over to be able to just lie there and revel in it.

 _This fucking sucks_ , he thinks, bitterly.

Not trusting his stomach if he moves too much, Hawke reaches out with this right hand, feeling around the bed for the bed's other occupant. Fenris is no longer touching him, so Hawke assumes that he must have rolled away in the night.

But Fenris is nowhere to be found and the sheets are cold. Sour fear pools in Hawke’s stomach, making his nausea so much worse. He forces his eyes to open once more and looks around the room.

He doesn’t want to think that anything is wrong, but there is history here…

The room is a goddamn mess, sheets mostly on the floor, clothing scattered all over the place. But all of it is Hawke’s. The light coming in through the blinds is bright enough to let him know that it’s well into the morning and when he finally manages to roll over, his clock reads 8:37.

“Fenris?” He calls hoarsely. The act of speaking sends a lance of pain through his skull, but there is no response.

 _Shit. Shitshitshit. Where did he go?_ Hawke is trying to keep from panicking. _Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Maybe he went to watch TV in the living room and fell asleep? Maybe someone broke in during the night and kidnapped him_ – though that’s not actually a better situation than the one that his traitorous and unhelpful brain keeps reminding him is most likely.

Fenris probably isn’t here because he doesn’t want to be. He woke up next to Hawke, remembered what they’d done, and regretted it. So he’s gone.

With great care, Hawke gets out of bed. He almost pukes twice before he’s upright, but when he manages to get on his feet and remain there, and his stomach settles a little.

“Hey Fenris?” He calls again, but there’s no response.

At a snail's pace, he walks out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the living room. As he feared, it’s empty. He heaves a massive sigh. He had sincerely thought that things were going so well last night; that Fenris was just as into everything that they were doing as he was. But they _were_ both drunk. He should have known better. Of course they moved too fast and of course Hawke has scared him off again.

This is Fenris, after all, whose middle name might as well be “Flight Risk”.

Hawke runs a hand through his hair. It’s kind of a mess after his wild night, sticking up at odd angles.

He doesn’t really know what to do in this situation. At a loss, he decides that he’s in no state to sort anything out, at least not until he's had some water and painkillers. Also, Champ is still in the laundry room and he needs to let the dog out, unless he wants to be cleaning up a big mess later.

Only, when he finally shuffles over to the laundry room and opens the door, Champ has vanished as well.

* * *

It’s not the first time Fenris has run out of a lover’s house without saying anything, but it is the first time that he’s taken a dog with him. Which is because this is the first time that he’s also been planning to come back.

He just needs a breather and a little bit of time to clear his head.

For all Anders’ talk of finally finding a person worth sticking around for and his own determination to stop being a baby and just go for it with Hawke, he hasn’t actually dealt with any of the underlying problems that have led up to his serious aversion to relationships.

Once, a long time ago, Fenris had fallen in love. But the man he fell for had seen a convenient victim instead of a partner. In exchange for his devotion, Danarius had provided Fenris with endless guilt trips, head games, and all the crazy making he could muster. It was so effective that even six years after the relationship has ended, despite Fenris knowing that Danarius was entirely to blame for the disaster that was their relationship, he still can't shake the idea that he was somehow at fault.

He doesn’t like to think about that time because it messes with his perception of reality and with his understanding of his very identity. But… he really likes Hawke and if he wants to make this work, he’s going to have to confront what happened to him.

He and Champ wander through Hawke’s neighborhood, he Mabari is oddly mellow for once, not pulling or running off. Given that he has the vestiges of a brutal hangover, Fenris appreciates it.

Champ stops to pee on a mailbox post. And Fenris look up into the cloudless, blue sky. It’s cold out, not surprising, given that it’s the middle of January, and Fenris spends a few distracted seconds watching his breath fog in the air.

He has a chance for something good and real here, the relationship that he had enthusiastically agreed to be a part of the night before. Drunk or not, he sincerely wanted it then and still wants now.

But he is afraid. This could fail in so many ways and it will break him if it does.

 _But Hawke is not Danarius. He has proven that over and over,_ he thinks, _and I am not the same man who let someone use me like that. Things are different now. Perhaps there is a chance…_

“Fenris!”

Fenris whips around, eye wide, and stunned. Hawke is bolting down the street, with a terrified expression on his face.

“Fenris! Champ! Oh my god. You’re okay, you’re okay, I was so worried.” He says, between gasps as he finally catches up. Hawke comes to a rest, hands on his knees, out of breath and sweating. Then he clutches at his stomach and blanches like he might be sick. Hawke is wearing his jeans and t-shirt from last night, though the shirt is on inside out and he is barefoot.

“Hawke, what is going on?” Says Fenris. Champ pulls free from his slack fingers and bounces over to his owner’s side.

Hawke looks up at him. “I woke up and you were gone. And then the dog was gone so I thought something must have happened. I tried to call but you left you phone and… and… oh my god. But you’re okay.” He finishes, his babbling trailing off into silence.

Fenris collects Champ’s leash again, as Hawke doesn’t look well at all and is in no state to handle a sleeping kitten, much less an excited Mabari.

“I just went for a walk, I wouldn’t just leave you like that.” He chides, “Did you run all this way? You look awful. Also it’s the middle of winter, why are you barefoot?”

Hawke groans. “Yeah I forgot shoes, and I probably shouldn’t have. But I panicked.”

Fenris makes a disgusted noise and shakes his head.

“You are a ridiculous man.” He says, but his tone is soft and affectionate.

“Yes, well, I’m your ridiculous man.” Says Hawke, in a teasing tone before he freezes and grows serious once more. “If… you still want that?”

And just like that, something slides into place for Fenris. No, Hawke is definitely not Danarius. And yes, Fenris may make a real mistake some day. He may do something that wounds Hawke too deeply or makes him too angry, but standing there, looking at him, the better part Fenris’s fear dissipates. Because through it all, Fenris has never made a mistake for which Hawke has not forgiven him. And he knows that even when Hawke messes up, he will not be running away again.

 _So this is what a healthy relationship feels like_ , he thinks, _imagine that._

He has a long way to go yet, there are things that he will need to deal with, and uncomfortable conversations that he will likely have to have with Hawke. But for the first time since this all began, that doesn't seem like an insurmountable obstacle.

“Of course I want that. Now let’s go home before you collapse.” Fenris says, stepping forward to wrap and arm around Hawke’s waist. Champ, having heard the word ‘home’ begins to tug against the leash.

“Settle down.” Fenris says and the dog quiets.

Hawke turns to Fenris and presses a kiss against his forehead before throwing his left arm over Fenris’s shoulders and leaning on him.

“But... I have to ask,” says Hawke as they begin walking back down the street, “Why did you take Champ?”

Fenris snorts. “I just thought that if I was going out he should as well. Unless you think I should have left him locked in the laundry room to pee on everything.”

Hawke snorts. “You claim practicality but I think it’s more than that. I think he’s growing on you.”

“Oh be quiet before I change my mind and just leave you here.” Fenris mutters.

Hawke bumps his hip against Fenris’s and almost knocks them both off balance. “As if; I remember you saying something about liking me in the cab last night, so all your grouchiness has lost its sting.”

Fenris rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

Leaning against each other, they walk slowly back to the house, Champ trotting along happily beside them.

* * *

The publication party for Fenris’s debut novel is held at _Cheese & Whine_, and both Hawke and Fenris are far more conservative with their drinking this time around. After the last party resulted in a day spent lying on the couch recovering, neither one of them is particularly keen to achieve that level of drunkenness again.

They’re also much better at having efficient and non-awkward sex when they’re sober, which is a big bonus.

 _Best Served Cold-_  a dark a gritty revenge thriller with a surprisingly nuanced romance- had hit the bookshelves to enormous critical acclaim. And Isabella had been only too happy to add yet another prize author to her collection.

“I really don’t know why no one else accepted it before me,” she said, sipping her wine, “it’s totally genius and with an author that looks as edible as you to help market it…”

She leers at Fenris and then winks when he scowls at her.

“Isabella, please stop hitting on my boyfriend. It makes him scrunch up his face and I’m worried he might get stuck like that.” Says Hawke.

“Remind me again why I put up with you.” Fenris grumbles, without any real malice.

“You’re just using him for his living room furniture and illustrious connections.” Says Varric, sidling into the conversation.

Fenris smirks. “Ah, of course.”

“Betrayal on all fronts.” Laments Hawke.

Varric pats him on the back then nods to Fenris. “You have a fan who would like to meet you, a Miss Pentaghast. I believe you might find the name familiar. She’s hanging out by the cheese bar if you want to say hi.”

Fenris’s eyes get kind of wide and he promptly ditches the group with no ceremony. He might pretend that he doesn’t, but Hawke knows full well that Fenris owns every single thing that Cassandra Pentaghast has ever written, including the racy romance series she penned before she was famous.

Hawke smiles. It’s nice to see Fenris coming out of his shell, even if it does mean that Hawke has to share his boyfriend with the rest of the party.

“You look good, Garett.” Says Varric. “When you first told me about all this shit you were going through with this relationship I thought there was no way in hell it was going to last, but I was wrong. Being with Fenris is definitely agreeing with you.”

A stupid grin spreads across Hawke’s face. “We’re coming up on our one-year anniversary soon. I’m thinking I might propose. I know it's a little quick and I’m pretty sure that he’s going to punch me when I do, but I love him, so I have to weigh the pros and cons.”

Varric looks at him strangely. “Should I maybe take back my previous statement?”

Isabella laughs and shakes her head. “No, no Varric; that’s just Fenris. His normal reaction to surprises– even, and sometimes _especially_ good ones– is to hit something. I thought he was going to punch me when I told him what his advance for the next book was going to be. And trust me, it’s good.”

“I see.” Says Varric in a tone that suggests that he really does not see.

Hawke laughs and claps his friend on the shoulder. “It’s fine, man; he’ll punch me but I think he’ll say yes. He moved in with me three months ago and I caught him taking a nap with Champ the other day, so I think we’re there.”

A waiter comes by and hands each of them a fried cheese and spinach puff.

Varric chews the puff thoughtfully then asks. “Is he still your dog walker?”

“No,” says Hawke, “though he still walks Champ most days. He won’t let me pay him any more because he says that’s just too weird.”

“It _would_ be weird.” Says Varric, with a snort.

“Tell Fenris that the day he stopped being a dog walker was the saddest day of Barkly’s life, but we're so happy for his success! Also hello everyone; I hope you’re enjoying the party.” Says Solona, who is hustling by the group on her way to intercept another guest.

“Zevran! Zevran Arainai, come back here, I need to talk to you!” She calls.

“Cute dress, Soli!” says Isabella to the blonde’s retreating back, before turning to face Hawke and Varric once more. “Personally I think he made the right decision. He’s far too talented a writer to be wasting all his time walking dogs. His genius is much better spent on making me a lot of money.”

“I am inclined to agree.” Fenris says with a smirk, slipping back into the conversation.

“Well,” Hawke says, “it wasn’t _all_ a waste, after all we never would have met if you weren’t a dog walker.”

Fenris looks at him and his expression softens. “True.”

It’s about as sappy as Fenris ever gets in public, and it makes Hawke feel warm and affectionate. So he leans over and kisses Fenris full on the mouth. There’s a chuckle from Varric and a cheer from Isabella, but Hawke and Fenris ignore them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest (and most adult) thing I've written in years. I'm still actually a little embarrassed that I wrote something like this, but... :x It was fun! Please let me know if you liked it! Your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. XOXO

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Must Love Dogs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513158) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton), [SomethingIncorporeal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingIncorporeal/pseuds/SomethingIncorporeal)




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